#i've barely slept today please help

[cedarnommer]

I think one thing that is increasingly confusing me is the people obsessively trying to push for like some universal definition of what a woman is. As a trans woman, I've thought about my gender identity and my sex for a long time now. I've always had this weird relationship with considering myself male trying to become female, always being a female but my soul being stuck in the wrong body, someone that's socially constructed themselves into feeling female, someone that had a genetic predisposition to being trans and sometimes wondering if what I'm doing absolves me of an identity.

I think there's something odd about trying so hard to push being female into this strict tight label. Any definition is going to end up excluding some people. Some women can't have children, some women don't exhibit socially stereotypical aspects of themselves, some women don't follow the beauty standards of white women and some of us don't have the same genitals.

I myself have been called a trap and lusted over because of my feminine body yet male genitalia. That kind of thing has left me confused and sometimes made me feel extremely uncomfortable. But because I didn't know what the correct way to see myself was, I just uncomfortably agreed to whatever stuff was ascribed to me by others.

From what I understand, cis women can also find it difficult to fully understand what it means to be a woman, to be female and so on. We don't have as strict standard paths towards femininity and womanhood anymore. Not all women have to marry and be housewives. Not all women have to bear children. And not all women have to even look like women.

So, how do you even define your womanhood?

My own conclusion is that thinking on it this deeply isn't going to satisfy me or give me the needed answers. I don't know. I just feel female. I identify as female. I am female. I am a woman. I don't feel the same need to think or worry about it so much anymore. I feel like finding comfort in who you are is nice. It's a good way to be. Lately I just find safety in knowing I can just be myself and not care much. It feels like those that really want to push for a concrete label are most interested in controlling us. I don't think this is just a trans issue. I think this is a women's issue in general. It's a right's issue. It's a patriarchy issue.

And well, I see a great deal of joy from trans men seeing themselves as men too.

I think if we're to break apart this strict gender binary and this patriarchal system, we have to make it so gender roles become pointless. So that there's so many ways to view and understand yourself, that you can feel happy and comfortable with yourself, without having to punish others for "falling out of line" with their own identity. I think the simple way in which I understand myself as female is wonderful. There's no need for debates, for weird "male" or "female" sex. Just say how you feel. We already have a new set of words that can describe decisions we couldn't consent to. That's why AMAB and AFAB exist.

You're you. You don't need to be anyone else. So just embrace yourself.

[youremyonlyhope]

Me last night at 3am: I'm gonna wake up early tomorrow. Or at least earlier. I'm gonna get this sleep schedule somewhat under control!

Me at 10am: *Wakes up. Snoozes my alarm for 2 hours*

Me at 12pm: Well. Getting out of bed at 12 is better than 2 like yesterday.

Me from 5pm to about 7pm: *takes a nap in an armchair*

Me right now at 4am: God why am I not sleepy yet?

[mahgyu]

──── In the beginning of your relationship, you learned that Satoru was the type who liked to sleep cuddling. Before meeting you, Satoru used to sleep hugging a pillow, even. It wasn't exactly a necessity for him, but just something he liked and that made him fall asleep faster. You, on the other hand, weren't exactly that type.

Hugs before sleeping? Perfect. Having someone on top of you while trying to sleep? Not so perfect. Fortunately, the two of you reached an agreement about that.

But sometimes, like today, Satoru was extremely clingy. He was sleeping deeply, with his body completely on top of yours, his face buried in the curve of your neck, and a leg trapped between yours.

You loved holding him that way, having the strongest man you had ever known so vulnerable curled up in your arms and sleeping peacefully. Satoru slept heavily when he felt that comfortable, and the deeper he slept, the heavier he became on you. As mentioned, your boyfriend is a strong guy, so now it was almost uncomfortable for you.

You feel this pressure against your chest as he rests on you, completely at ease. You thought that maybe, if you tried hard enough, you could fall asleep, but no, it’s not possible.

"Baby..." You whisper, hoping it will be enough to wake him, but he just keeps snoring, each snore reverberating through your body.

"Toru...?" You try again, a little louder.

"SATORU!" Still nothing. He barely moves a bit in his sleep, letting out a particularly loud snore.

OK. Plan B. If you can't get him off, it's time to slide down. Only after two unsuccessful attempts, you somehow manage to do it, taking a big breath as you escape. You haven't even fully turned to the side when Satoru wakes up, confused and abandoned, with the source of warmth under him gone. He moves his hand aimlessly over the sheets until he feels you.

"Where are you going?" He murmurs sleepily, moving closer to you. "No..." A heavy arm wraps around you, pulling you back to him with ease. There’s a soft hum as he feels your body fit into his.

"Toru?" You call him sweetly. "You know I can't sleep like this, hmm? Come on." You pat his arm, signaling for him to let you go.

Satoru doesn't move. Instead, he just makes some whiny sounds before rubbing his face in your hair.

"Come on, let me go, please?" More pleading.

"Nuh-uh, I don't want to." He whines. "Hug me." He pouts, looking so needy and neglected.

"Love, you're acting like a baby" You complain.

"Because I am. I'm your baby!" He says defiantly. "So, you should treat me like one."

At this point, you know it won't help to try to convince him when he's in this mood. You sigh, deciding to give up and give in.

About five minutes pass in complete silence and then Satoru quietly asks: "You really can't sleep?" The thought of this now bothers him. How could he relax knowing that you're not even comfortable?

"Mhm" You respond as he pulls separates from you.

"OK, I'll give up the hug time for you!" He sighs, rolling away from you dramatically. A few minutes later, he sighs again, a bit louder.

This is his cue to tell you that you should give in and cuddle with him. But you can't, having finally found a position that relaxes all the right places in your body, perfect for falling asleep.

"Are you really going to leave me abandoned?" His voice is so stupidly captivating that it makes you melt. You can't say no to that.

Satoru smiles when he hears the rustling of the sheets, your body moving toward him.

With open arms, he welcomes you back as you rest your head on his chest. "I think I can sleep like this..." You admit as he smiles, making sure you're comfortable but still wrapped up in him.

Hiii, long time no see, uh? 👀This time I brought something cute, a thought I had because I've been feeling so needy and missing our Gojo😞

(It is not well corrected, please ignore any possible mistakes.)

Your interaction is very important to me, reblogs and comments are always welcome. 🫶🏻💕

⠀

[evergreenlake]

And Fate was on His Side

Chapter 1

1.1k words

tw: mentions of cheating and hook ups, violence, guns and terrorism (please let me know if I have forgotten anything)

Price x F!Reader, Secret Baby Trope

an: Okay this is just a small note before the chapter starts. I just wanted to warn everyone that this is my first fic, so any of my descriptions of violence may suck lol. And since I don't really have a beta reader this was just barely edited by me and Grammarly lol. But a warning for the future some characters may seem ooc since I do not have much practice writing for them. Anyways that's all I hope you all enjoy.

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next chapter

Most people who have been in a relationship for multiple years think that they'll last forever. Unfortunately, that does not always happen. And y/n is one of the unlucky ones. Her boyfriend of five years slept with his boss's wife. So she broke up with him and decided to travel abroad finally.

She decided to head to England as she'd always been curious about it. When she was out and about on her sightseeing she found out about this bar everyone was raving about. So she decided that after everything that happened back in the States, she deserved a drink. While at the bar she met the most attractive man she's ever seen. They ended up chatting for a while and she decided to finally get out of her comfort zone for once. So they ended up hooking up and the man was gone the next morning. Y/n ended up leaving London the next day.

About 2 months later, she finds out about the twins. The young woman decided to keep them, as she didn't have any plans for future relationships. And she also has always wanted to have kids, so 9 months later she ends up having a boy and a girl. Their names are Daniel, or Danny as his nickname, and the girl was named Mia.

Now Y/n did end up raising the twins alone, along with the help of her friends and family. Well, she did it alone for 16 years, until the day fate brought her and Captain John Price back together.

"Danny come on! You're gonna make us late. Mom has already got the car started. " Mia was standing at the bottom of the stairs as she yelled for her twin brother. Their mutual friend's birthday was today. Shay wanted to spend it at the mall with the twins and some other people.

Danny was taking forever to get ready, his twin thought it was cause he didn't want to go. In reality, he just has a crush on Shay and wants to make sure he looks good. He sighs as he finally stops messing with his hair and quickly comes down the stairs.

Mia was waiting at the door impatiently with a small frown. She was all bundled up in her winter coat with a beanie and her gloves. It was early winter, so the temperature was freezing. Once Danny finally got his coat on they hurried to the car.

Laughing Mia beat him to the front seat and he grumbled getting in the back. Y/n watches the twins with a small smile, she shakes her head with a huff before she asks " Are you two finally ready to go? Shay might be there already. " The twins just groaned before she put the car in drive, and then they were on their way to the mall.

It didn't take long for them to get there, and as soon as their mother had parked. The twins jumped out of the car and were hurrying towards the front of the mall. Back in the car, Y/n sighs, she grabs her purse before she quickly follows after them.

The twins were talking with Shay and the other two people that were there. Standing to the side was Shay's mother. Y/n happened to be close to Grace so she decided to help watch after the 5 teens.

Grace sent Y/n a cheeky smile before she grabbed her arm. " Can't wait to feel so old following them around. I have no clue what they have planned but apparently, they've made a list of places they want to go. I've told Shay we would just follow them around. " Y/n smiles a little before looking at the group of five and she hums a little. " I don't expect anything too wild out of them. Though I do think they may spend a ton of time at the arcade." She let out a small laugh and both of the women started following the kids into the mall.

And just like what was predicted the first place they stopped was the arcade. Shay and Daniel would split off from Mia and the other two. Grace and Y/n shared a small smirk as they watched them.

The adults would wait by the front of the arcade for them. Just gossiping about everyday things, mostly what their teens were up to. At one point Mia came back and just sat next to her mom quietly. She was quite the book nerd, she brought The Hunger Games with her so she could finish her third read-through.

After some time of the teens playing games, they came back over. All of them were now ready to move on to another store. As the group was leaving the arcade a loud explosion shook the building. Chaos was now what the mall atmosphere was like. People were running, others were getting under doorways.

The teenagers had looked to the adults scared, and unsure of what to do. Grace and y/n looked at each other before they started trying to herd the kids through the crowd and to the exit. And not even five minutes later they could hear gunshots. Shay and Mia immediately started screaming. Daniel quickly grabbed onto both of them and followed after the other two teens. While the five of them headed towards a store the adults were right behind them.

As the group was almost to the store, a group of masked men came around the corner. They looked like they were in some kind of tactical gear. Y/n's eyes had widened as she saw them and as soon as they lifted their guns she pushed Grace towards the children. Daniel had turned back as he heard Grace cry out a little. And he was immediately screaming his mother's name as he watched a bullet enter her shoulder.

The woman stumbles into the store as Daniel makes his way back to her. The employees of the store were motioning people to head towards the back room. Grace and her daughter quickly made their way there with the other two teens. Mia turned around and headed toward her mother and Daniel. The three of them barely made it to the register before the men were in the front of the store.

The family of three were now hiding behind the counter. This is because as soon as the employees had seen the group of men outside the store, they rushed into the backroom and shut the door. So the three of them were stuck behind the counter until either the men found them, or someone came to save the day. Little did anyone know, a group was on their way. This group had experience with dealing with a terrorist group like this.

Task Force 141 was on their way to take out the terrorists that were now wreaking havoc upon the mall.

Taglist:

@miss-vanta-likes-to-write @galactict3a

[stargirlygirl]

Upgrade pt. 1

Pro Hero Midoriya Izuku x fem!reader

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Epilogue

Summary: Izuku gets severely injured during a rescue mission. As a result, most of his left arm is amputated. You, being a mechanical and biomedical engineer (and his loyal girlfriend), decide to build him a cybernetic arm to replace the arm he's lost.

Word count: 4k

🚨Disclaimer & Warnings: This is a work of fiction. It is not incriminating downtown Tokyo or any districts in downtown Tokyo. Izuku has most of his left arm amputated and it is emotional.

A/n: I've never had a limb amputated and I don't know anyone who has, so I've used several resources to help me write Izuku's experience for this story which I'll include at the end of this post. I've tried to capture the experience of what it's like to lose a limb, but I'm not perfect and neither is this work. If I've offended you, please message me. This is part 1 of 3 and will also have an epilogue, so technically, 4.

Final notes: Dr Kita and the reporter are characters that I made up for this story. I feel like Dr Kita is giving Sir Nighteye. A little anyways. What do you think?

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You were stirring tofu curry in your kitchen. It’s delicious scent curling up your nostrils, tendrils seeking your body and your home. The television was playing in the back. Sliced spring onions freshly chopped on the wooden chopping board next to the stove. You were humming softly to yourself your favourite song.

Today was the day that your pookie bear, Izuku, was coming back from his month long mission. It had been a gruelling four weeks of rushed phone calls. Quick “How’s your day been? and even quicker “I love you’s”. You missed his nerdy talk about all the latest heroes new moves and how much he still admires All Might, his cuddles and warm hands on your tummy when it was that time of the month. You missed how he would always try to pick you up from work, clad in a face mask and Dynamight’s new merch. You missed making dinner together. You missed waking up together whenever you two slept together (cause separate beds in relationships is superior convince me otherwise).

He had been on an undercover mission to bring an underground quirk breeding organisation to justice. The fact that those still existed sent shivers down your spine. One time, you had asked him over call what it was like, being so close to all of that. To which he dodged with, “It’s what heroes are expected to deal with, so don’t worry about it honey.” You probably shouldn’t have asked as all mission information is classified until the news gets their grimy hands on it. But, it still had taken you back that he didn’t want to talk about it.

But, you know that when he gets home, he’ll be tired but he’ll want to talk. And you’ll sit there, looking up to him, reminded of how strong he is and of how hard he works to protect you, to protect all of Japan. Speaking of which, he should be home by now.

Plucking you from your daze is the reporter’s voice shouting into her mic, “Breaking News!” You turn around, seeing her standing in front of Central Hospital on the small television screen. “Japan’s Number One Pro Hero ‘Deku’ severely injured during quirk breeding rescue mission.” Your mind goes blank. You rush over to the TV, grabbing the remote, turning the volume up, and plonking down on the tan sofa.

You watch as footage comes on screen, showing Deku, outside of what looks to be an on-fire night club, surrounded by several villains in coordinated suits. Dynamight’s explosions can be heard in the back muffling the screams of girls chained and barely clothed who are being taken out of the building, covered in soot and coughing, by Shoto and Ingenium.

You watch intently as the villains lung at your hero. He dodges, expertly, using the intricacies of One For All to knock them unconscious. As gentlemanly as ever, even when he fights.

But it’s not enough. You continue watching, enraptured by the fight, as the reporter continues, “Pro Hero ‘Deku’, along with other heroes like Japan’s Number Two ‘Dynamight’, Number Three ‘Shoto’, and ‘Ingenuim’ have been on an undercover mission investigating quirk breeding auctions in downtown Tokyo’s underground night clubs for the past month. Tonight, things went awry as Dynamight engages, fed up with the secrecy of the mission, dragging the pro heroes into an intense fight with the villains orchestrating this conspiracy.”

“Of course it’s fucking Dynamight,” you mumble under your breath.

Deku’s now taking five villains at once when the left side of the building collapses due to the flames. It had been the entrance, where Shoto and Ingenium had been hauling out what you assume to be the victims of this scheme. Shoto hands the young girl in his arms to one the firefighters at scene before turning around and yelling to Deku, “There’s still one more left in the building.”

Your hands have begun to shake. The suspense is wracking your nervous system. “Deku attempts to dash back into the building when the villains he was just fighting jump onto him.—” They drag him to the ground, delivering some serious blows to his torso. The left side of the building further crumbles in on itself. “Approaching Deku is another villain known to authorities as ‘Bon Appétit’. Quirk is knife.” Bon Appétit’s arms are comprised of different knives and swords, jutting out, sharp and glinting evilly. You cringe and yelp as the villain thrusts the blades into Deku’s left arm.

“Reeling from this blow, Deku uses One For All at what sources suspect to be full capacity, to fend off the villains and rescue the victim inside. Emerging—” The video pauses on a shot of him, girl on his back, left arm bloodied and dangling limply. From what you can see from the awful lighting, shaky cameraman, and torn shreds of Deku’s suit, his flesh is torn and skin (beneath the blood) has gone purple. No! “Deku’s left arm appears to be severely injured.”

The broadcast cuts back to the reporter outside of Central Hospital. There are a flurry of reporters and police surrounding the entrance to the hospital. She stands with her back to them and continues, “Pro Hero Deku was taken to Central Hospital to be treated shortly after 7pm. Our cameras caught—” A video of an ambulance pulling up to the entrance plays on screen. Once it’s stopped, Deku is ushered out, flanked by paramedics. Dynamight steps out after him, shouting a string of censored curses and insults after broccoli boy in front, “footage of Pro Hero ‘Deku’ being escorted by ambulance here with Dynamight and Shoto following suit. Love and support is being poured out by fans to Deku and his family tonight for his swift recovery. Hirota Miu, TBS Television.”

You sit there, hunched over, elbows on knees, shell-shocked. You don’t know how much time passes after the broadcast before you hear your phone ringing. You grab it from the low coffee table in front of you, clicking the green phone icon and bringing it to your ear reflexively.

“Miss [L/n], this is Dr Kita from Central Hospital. Deku gave us your details as his emergency contact.” You blink… and blink again. What? “Deku’s been seriously injured in his recent fight. He’s being prepared for emergency surgery on his left arm right now. You’re welcome to come in and visit once he’s out. The procedure should take 60 to 90 minutes. Just come to the front desk and give your information to the receptionists, and they’ll direct you.”

You stare out the window, looking at all the lights sparkling from above and below your apartment. How could everything seem so peaceful right now when your partner, your hero, was going in for emergency surgery? “Yes I’ll, um, I’ll be right there. Um…”

“Is there anything else, Miss [L/n]?” You stayed quiet for a few seconds, trying to think of what to say. “No, sorry. I’ll be right there.”

“See you soon then, Miss [L/n].”

You move routinely, going to your bedroom to put on a bra before lacing up some sneakers, throwing on one of Izuku’s hoodies over your t-shirt and mini shorts, and grabbing your bag. You leave your apartment hastily and practically run to the station, taking it to the one closest to Central Hospital.

There are no words to describe how you feel. Your heart is pounding hard in your chest, and not from the exercise. Your skin is crawling with anxiety. Your shirt clings to the sweat dripping down your back, and every so often you wipe your sweat-laced palms on your shorts. Your thoughts consist of “Is he okay?”, “Why is he going into emergency surgery?”, “That idiot, I told him never to use One For All at 100% because it could lead to some serious damage! He knows that. Why would he risk it?! The blow from that villain was bad enough, why did he have to…?”, and the like. One thought triggers the next, an endless cycle until Central Hospital is towering above your small figure.

You keep it calm and steady as you walk into the lobby. The receptionist greets you and tell her your name and why you’re here. She nods knowingly, not bothering to confirm details and telling you to take the elevator to level 3. You follow her directions, down the hall and to the left. You’re met with dull blue double doors. The sign above reading ‘Recovery Room’. You push it open, involuntarily inviting numerous stares from doctors, nurses, and recovering patients who are conscious.

A tall, lanky man comes over to you, dressed in slacks and white lab coat. He has a clip board in hand. “I’m Dr Kita. You must be Miss [L/n]. We spoke on the phone.” You nod, trying to gulp down your nerves.

“Mr Midoriya’s surgery will be finished in about—” Dr Kita looks down at his silver watch, “an hour. You’re free to walk around, get some snacks or something. Visiting hours end at 8pm, but I’ll make an exception for you.” He smiles gently at you. You nod and thank him before looking away from him, thinking about how you were going to kill time. You felt sick to your stomach, knowing that your boyfriend was undergoing surgery at the moment. What else could you possibly think about but that?

“Actually, Dr Kita, I’d like to just wait here.” You look back up at him. He has jet black hair tied neatly into a low bun. His rectangle glasses slip ever-so-slightly down his nose, behind which sleek brown eyes stare at you with a look of understanding. “You can’t wait in the recovery room but, you can wait outside. We’ll call you in once Mr Midoriya’s is out of surgery.”

Your response is a whisper, “Oh… okay.” You look down to your feet, shoulders slumping. Quickly, you pick yourself back up, raising your head back up and asking, “So, I’ll just wait in the corridor?” Dr Kita nods, “That’s fine.”

You turn to leave before realising that you hadn’t even been told what surgery Izuku was undergoing. You turn back around, noticing that Dr Kita hadn’t moved an inch. “What’s his surgery for?”

Long, slender fingers push the glasses back up his hooked nose. He sighs, “Unfortunately, Mr Midoriya’s left arm has suffered trauma beyond repair. The decision was made to amputate part of his arm.” Your mouth falls open. Amputate. His. Left. Arm? “And who made that decision?” Dr Kita shifts under your piercing gaze. You make a mental note to apologise later for staring daggers into him. “The trauma surgeon did. He’s in there right now performing the procedure on Mr Midoriya. I understand that this may come as a shock, but he explained to me that it was necessary and urgent to amputate Mr Midoriya’s left arm as the tissues in his forearm and hand were damaged severely. Mr Midoriya was losing too much blood and some bones in the forearm had been shattered. There is too much damage and danger to simply reset the bones and stitch him up. The surgeon’s doing what he can to salvage what’s left of Mr Midoriya’s arm.”

Are you actually hearing this right now? Is this real? Are you actually in the hospital right now, hearing a doctor tell you that Izu-chan’s arm is to be amputated? Did you turn off the curry before leaving? Fuck. “Do you mean that the whole arm won’t be amputated?”

“It’s possible that the whole left arm won’t be amputated. The main damage was done at the forearm and elbow.” Dr Kita’s tone was fairly dead-pan. But you’re not thinking about how many patients he must of seen in similar or worse situations, or the worst situations. All you’re thinking about is your boyfriend who might be losing most of his arm right now.

You gulp, “I see… Thank you for clarifying. I’ll, um, I’ll go wait outside now.” Dr Kita nods in acknowledgement before you spin on your heel and take your leave.

For the next hour, you pace back and forth, up and down the hallways of level 3. You check your phone every five minutes, making sure that you have enough time for another lap of the level. After one painstaking, anxiety-inducing, palm-sweaty hour, you’re standing outside of the recovery room, waiting to be called in.

You’ve been thinking it over… just how will it be, Izuku without his left arm. He’ll be devastated. He confided in you soon after you two first started dating that one of his biggest fears was pushing his body beyond its’ limits. He wanted to protect people, to be an incredible hero, and he would do anything to achieve that. He was afraid that one day, he would go too far and he wouldn’t be able to come back from that. And then, he wouldn’t be able to protect people anymore. How would he react, knowing that part of that fear had become reality? What would this mean for his hero career? For your relationship?

Even as this new reality dawned on you, not once did you even consider leaving him. How could you? He was the man that you were so deeply in love with. You two were discussing marriage just before he left for that mission. Oh, why did he have to go on that mission?!

He means so much to you. He’s been there for you at some of your hardest times, like when you first moved to Japan to pursue a career at the front of biomedical engineering. Or when the public had found out about you two and had bullied you relentlessly for your quirk due to it’s similarities to All For One’s. It was all the tabloids could talk about for the entire week, before Izuku had released a statement under his agency, clarifying the differences between your quirks and re-affirming his love and trust in you. He had been the reason that your life in Japan had become so much more inclusive, joyful, and prosperous. Hell, he had even taught you Japanese at the beginning of your relationship, and continues to help you whenever there’s an expression or word that you don’t understand.

That All Might otaku has been there for you through everything. If that had been you. If you had lost your arm. He wouldn’t even consider the possibility of breaking up with you. How could you?

“Miss [L/n].” You’re brought out of your thoughts, seeing one of the nurses peaking out from behind the recovery room doors. It’s the moment you’ve been waiting for. “He’s out.”

You rush over to her, entering when she pushes the door open for you and thanking her. And then, you spot ruffled deep green curls crowding a peaceful looking face. He’s still asleep. You let out a breath.

You follow the nurse over to the side of his bed, where you notice some other doctors in slacks. Dr Kita comes over almost immediately after you do. You’re by Izuku’s side, watching him. Speechless. About half of his left upper arm remains, wrapped beneath bandages with a stocking and drainage tubes attached. You can feel the tears starting come on. You tilt your head back, blinking rapidly. Not now! Not yet.

You look back down. The medical staff are talking in medical gibberish, so you focus on your pookie. It’s not that you can’t understand medical jargon. Being a biomedical engineer, you often work with such terminology. You’d just rather not right now. Not when Izu looks like an angel that’s fallen from the heavens as he sleeps. He’s got little cuts on his face that have been cleaned and had betadine dabbed onto them. His other arm has a cannula in it. It too is scarred and has other minor cuts that have also been cleaned up.

You sit on the side of his bed, waiting patiently for him to wake up. After a few minutes, his eyelids begin to flutter and soon, he opens his beautiful green eyes. You draw in a breath, taking in the dazed look on his face as he looks around and starts to move his head from side to side.

“Mr Midoriya,” Dr Kita says. His voice is calm and steady. It stops you from leaning over to cup Izu’s cheeks. For now anyways. “Mr Midoriya, can you hear me?” Izuku groans in response, he begins lifting his right hand to touch his face when the nurse beside him gently grabs it mid-air and brings it back down the bed. “Try to not to move too much, Mr Midoriya.”

“Ugh,” he groans, his voice hoarse, “what happened?” Dr Kita holds up two of his fingers in front of Izuku’s face. “Mr Midoriya, how many fingers am I holding up?” Izu grumbles, “Two.”

“Good. How are you feeling? Are you experiencing any dizziness or nausea?” Izuku shuts his eyes, his brows creased. “Mhmm, both.” You can’t stop yourself this time, “Izu-chan.” His eyes open immediately and he looks down at you from the slightly raised bedhead. He squints, murmuring with uncertainty at first, “[Y/n]?” You bite the side of your lip, shifting closer to him, “Yea.”

“You’re here, babe.” His voice is still raspy.

You hum in agreement, “Of course, I’m here. You okay?”

He chuckles softly, “Mhmm I—”

Fuck. He goes to move his left hand, presumably up to his face again. He usually rubs the back of neck when gets nervous. But no hand moves. Because there’s no hand to move. You watch, lump in your throat, as he winces, letting out a groan of pain. Your eyes move with his, to the empty space that was the rest of his left arm. He looks back up at you, before turning his gaze to the doctors and nurses watching him cautiously.

“I-I don’t… I don’t understand. Am I?” He tries to move his left hand again but lets out another groan. “I-No, this can’t. I—”

“Mr Midoriya,” Dr Kita cuts him off. “Yes, we had to amputate most of your left arm. You had experienced trauma beyond repair to your left forearm and elbow from a combination of severe wounds and the use of One For All at what we suspect to be full capacity. The surgeon decided that this was for the best.”

It’s like you can hear his heart shattering into a million pieces. It shatters alongside your own. The look of pain, of sheer, tortuous, anguish across his face hearing those words, you can’t hold back your tears any longer. You sniffle quietly as they roll down your cheeks. “Sorry,” you murmur, voice heavy with sadness. You mentally berate yourself for crying, drawing the attention to yourself when it’s not your moment. But, you can’t help it. All you want to do is give your boyfriend cuddles and tell him everything is going to be okay. That you’re going to make it through this together. But all you can do is sit there and start quietly sobbing.

“Honey.” You look up through your tears and fingers trying to wipe them away. He looks like he’s about to start crying too.

Izuku shifts his gaze from you to the doctors. “Can you give us a moment?”

“Mr Midoriya, we need to some che—”

“I’m happy to do whatever checks you want. Please, just give us some space first?”

The doctors look amongst each other, communicating in an unspoken code before taking their leave. You let out a shaky breath, looking at your boyfriend lying beside you. “Hey.” His voice cracks. You both laugh. You lean forward, cupping his cheeks in your hands. His right hand grasps your lower back softly. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle. “For what? It’s not your fault.” He looks at you with a gentle gaze, just as gentle as his touch. “I know but I-” you choke on your sobs. “Hey, it’s alright.” His hand pressures you to move forward so you can lay on his chest. But you don’t. You look up into those glassy green eyes. “I can’t.” One of your hand goes to his chest. “You’re in pain,” you shake your head. His brows knit together at this, “I-It doesn’t hurt there.” You pause before you nod knowingly.

You too can’t help but want to be close to him like this. You lay your head on his chest with care, hands close to yourself. His right hand strokes the top of your head, scarred fingers threading through your silky [h/c] locks. You tilt your head back, looking up at him. “You don’t have to pretend it’s okay. sniffle I know it’s not okay.” You plant a shaky small kiss on his jaw. His hand cups your shoulder. “Yea,” his voice trembles. “I…” You can feel his chest vibrate with the emotions rising to the surface. You hear him sniffle, and soon, you two just lay there, crying together. One of the nurses brings over a tissue box which you two drain, wiping tears away and blowing noses. No words can articulate the kind of moment you two share.

It’s only when you two have calmed down that you lift yourself up from his chest. You cup his cheek in your right palm and murmur, “You hungry? D’you want some water?” He shakes his head, sniffling up those last tears. You dab his under eyes with the ruined tissue in your other hand. “I was m-making—” You stop to inhale and exhale a deep breath before continuing, “tofu curry when they called me.” ‘Your favourite’ you leave unspoken.

“Can you sniffle bring me some?” He pouts. You nod your head ‘yes’, chuckling softly as you look down, “I will but, I don’t think they’ll let me back in if I leave now. Visiting hours are over.” Izuku nods, gulping down those straggler tears. “I think I might have left it on, so I’ll bring some tomorrow, okay?” He nods again, bringing his right hand to your cheek, thumb gently caressing the delicate skin below your eyes.

“Mr Midoriya, Miss [L/n]. Do you mind if we continue with the general check-up?” You both look at each other before looking back at Dr Kita. “Of course,” you reply, moving away from Izuku and standing up, next to his bed. “Do I have to go now or?” Dr Kita looks up from his clipboard, “We’ve given you special clearance for tonight. In future, you’ll have to abide by visiting hours.” He’s moved from the foot of the bed to the left side, a distance away from you. “Visiting hours are from 10am to 8pm. I would advise leaving soon if you’re catching the train back to your apartment. I’m sure you know that it’s not very safe walking around alone at night.” You hum in response.

You look back at Izuku who shakes his head in agreement. He sniffles, “I-I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” You nod, moving closer and leaning over him, placing a small kiss on his lips. Your first in a month. It’s brief but sweet. Just enough to keep you going until tomorrow.

“Stay strong for me, okay?” Izuku smiles back at you. You pull back and turn towards Dr Kita, “Thank you for all of your help, doctor. I’ll be back here tomorrow. Should I just ask at reception?”

“Mhmm. See you tomorrow, Miss [L/n].” You walk past Dr Kita, turning around once your approaching the doors, locking eyes with your Izu before leaving the recovery room.

The trip home is filled with replays of all that had just happened. When you got back, you found that luckily, you had in fact turned the curry off. You turn it back on, following the recipe in your mind to finish it off. Dinner, packing leftovers, dishes, all go by mindlessly. You’re still stuck in a daze by the time you sit in your plush chair in the corner of your room, pulling at your journal. It’s time to talk about it.

------------₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊------------

These are the links that I used to write this story:

https://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/10iiud/amputees_of_reddit_what_was_it_like_to_lose_a/

https://www.quora.com/What-is-it-like-to-lose-a-limb-in-an-accident-and-how-did-you-handle-the-emergency

https://www.sciencedirect.com/topics/psychology/cyborg#:~:text=Initially%2C%20a%20cyborg%20was%20described,to%20compensate%20for%20some%20disabilities

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cyborg_(DC_Comics)#:~:text=transform%20the%20city.-,Powers%20and%20abilities,speed%2C%20stamina%2C%20and%20flight

https://www.fairviewrehab.com/nursing-care/care-after-amputation/

https://www.cancercouncil.com.au/cancer-information/cancer-treatment/surgery/recovery/hospital-recovery-room/

https://www.webmd.com/a-to-z-guides/definition-amputation

https://my-hero-academia-fanon.fandom.com/wiki/Cybernetic_Arms

https://newsinhealth.nih.gov/2018/08/bionic-movements#:~:text=The%20bionic%20hand%20sends%20signals,hand%20is%20closing%20or%20opening

[0oolookitsme]

Double Date Day

The smut that I've left you guys hanging for in this fic, is coming sooner than you think it is! So, don't be too sad haha! Best believe, it is coming right after the next fic! Also, I like started writing this concept probably last year, if not the one before that; and I just COULDN'T write it! But finally, I've re-written it for the millionth time and while I'm not very happy with the way it has turned out, I still hope you like it!

Verse - Singer!Harry x Ceo!Y/n

Word Count - 3k

Warnings - None! A scene alludes to smut, but it doesn't happen!

It is Valentine's Day, also known as the Double Date Day in the Styles' house. And being one of the highly anticipated days for the family, a lot of preparation and antics take place throughout the day!

Please rb to share! | Masterlist

It was showing to be a clear morning; and, as Harry laid in bed with his eyes cracked open seconds prior, he imagined the clouds softly moving along with the brisk wind, and the sun peeking in between, as if playing peek-a-boo with the world. He knew it to be a deceiving setting though, because no matter how bright the sun was shining after days of disappearance, the weather was still chilly and would bite at his skin were he to go out.

Turning to his side he met with Y/n’s crouched back as she slept, curled into herself. He couldn’t hear anything from her but the slow rise and fall of her figure indicated that she was still fast asleep.

His lips curled into a crooked smile as he formed a cocoon around her, covering her back with his chest, slipping his hand around her waist and tucking away his chin into the back of her neck – her hair that seemed to be had slipped out of the braid she’d made last night, fell on his face and Harry gladly breathed in the comforting scent of her shampoo. 

His eyes fell close, as if almost compelled to go back to sleep in her warmth. And, he had just begun to drift away when he felt the bed dip behind him. This was nothing new, still Harry opened his eyes cautiously and shifted his gaze to the scene going on behind him.

One of the twins was standing up on wobbly legs, bending down to, according to Harry at least, help another one up. And he’s only proven correct once Amore is standing tall again, and Andre seems to be holding onto her arm for his dear life while he tried to balance himself on the mattress. They shared a look at for a little, as if revising the same plan that they follow through on every fourteenth of the February, since they’ve turned three, and passed each other a grin with a thumbs up, like signing off a pact.

He silently grinned and before he could begin pretending to be asleep, his eyes fell on Y/n’s bare chest that was seconds away from revealing her breasts. Looking at the kids, he slid her flimsy shirt down her torso and, once done, unintentionally swung his legs up her calf like he always does, instead of being sneaky and stilled, hearing Amore squeak – “Daddy’s Awake!” followed by Andre’s giggling. 

Tilting on his back, a throaty laugh escaped his mouth because of getting caught and also at the sight of Andre’s blonde curls sticking out in all directions. “Good morning, my monkeys,” he sang funnily, wrapping his arms around their little bodies as they snuggled up on his right side with their never-ending giggles.   

“Morning daddy,” the two wished him back in hushed voices, as if Y/n wasn’t already awake by the sound of their sweet-sweet laughter.

Harry hummed for a little, before beginning – “It’s the double date day today, isn’t it?” He asked and felt them nodding on his shoulder. Looking down at Amore and laughing when she poked at his double-chin, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“You know what to do, my love.” He began and turned to look at Andre, asking him if he were ready to take on the day. On receiving a cheery reply, he took the blanket off of him and got out with Andre clung to his chest, putting the boy back down once he was on the floor. 

“Enjoy you time with mummy,” he chirped at Amore and kissed both her and Y/n’s cheeks quickly before pretending to run off with his other little one cackling and running behind him.

On the very first Valentine’s Day that Harry and Y/n had celebrated as parents, they had come up with an idea to turn it into a double date day. For what reason, they aren’t sure – it just seemed cool to do, and now the family awaited this day every year with great excitement. 

The first time, Y/n had gone on a date with Andre and Harry had gone with Amore. It was nothing but another domestic little excuse to spend some more quality time with their kids. The second year around, Y/n and Amore went on one, while the boys went with each other and, for the third year, the kids had gone over to Anne’s, so Harry and Y/n had gone on a date. 

This year, they were following the suite of the February fourteenth on which Y/n was pregnant, and ready to pop any minute, sat in the bed with breakfast served to her by her lovely husband, who hadn’t even managed to get dressed because he had missed his alarm, surprisingly enough. Which meant, they were starting anew this year, and the whole family was going to be sat on one table and just chit chat like they do all the time and discuss Harry and Y/n’s first meeting for the thousandth time. 

Right now, Y/n very sneakily wrapped her arm around Amore’s frame and dragged her towards herself. She laughed lightly when she realized that she’d scared the girl as her eyes remained widened for a second too long. “Good morning, mi amore,” she chuckled, kissing the top of her nose and sighed when she snuggled closer to her. 

With her face tucked away in Y/n’s chest, Amore shyly greeted her back, “morning, mummy.” Her voice was muffled, and Y/n knew she wasn’t too far from slipping back to dreamland.

“Did you get anything?” Y/n asked, pressing another kiss to the girl’s hairline. 

The girl hummed and Y/n wondered how Harry hadn’t noticed such similarities between him and Amore. “There was a box beside my pillow, but I haven’t opened it yet,” she answered, and pressed a return kiss on her mummy’s chest through the ridiculous gaps between the shirt’s buttons, her body shaking with laughter when Y/n giggled.

“What about Andre? Did he get his gift?”

“Yeah! He opened his first thing in the morning!” Amore laughed. “He was very happy to see all that paint and the brushes,” she said, taking a deep breath right after. 

“When do you plan on opening yours, munchkin?”

“After the breakfast,” the girl mumbled and Y/n coddled her body closer to her, sensing that she was dozing off in her warmth. 

Amore began snoring and Y/n also gave in to sleep slowly and slowly, all while hearing the muffled but loud chatter going on downstairs. 

Harry simply couldn’t stop questioning Andre, who was sitting on the kitchen island – “You are always helping out your mum, why aren’t ya helping me?” He asked with a pout on his lips and a dramatic frown between his brows, all while opening the drawer for a fork.

On receiving no answer, he looked up to see Andre struggling to get back on the Island with a glass lunch packed with Strawberries. “What are you doing?” he questioned again, watching as he began putting some into the empty bowl Harry had brought out to stir some batter in. 

“Just a snack for the two of us,” he whispered with a finger on his lips. When asked to spill some details by Harry, he elaborated – “Amore told me she and mummy had some last night when you and I had gone to sleep,” with an angry and pouty look on his face.

Harry laughed loudly at that, realizing that Amore had tried to make a fool out of his son, and how she had succeeded. On seeing the little one grumbling and getting off the island, he tried to cover up quickly as he rushed to his side to face him.

“I’m sorry darling, but I think she might’ve been fubbing,” he said with an apologetic look, but chose his words wisely. “Don’t you remember you two had slept off on the couch and how me and mummy had tucked you in the bed?” He continued and chuckled when realization dawned on Andre’s face. 

“Well, cheer up and help your daddy now,” Harry grinned, patting the boy’s head and moving to take out another bowl. 

They spent the rest of the time in the kitchen just that way – Harry constantly spilling jokes and pulling on Andre’s leg, who just sat and brought him things with a pout on his mouth because of the teasing.

Every time, Andre would find a new spot to put flour on Harry's face and get a whiney ‘heyy!’ in return from his helpless dad whose hands remained busy the whole time. 

The boy was feeling done with Harry, wanting to be by his mother’s side now that he’d had his daily dose of dad jokes ingested in his system. Every once in a while, he’d dip his finger in the cookie-dough that Harry had left out to make biscuits later when the two girls were to join them in the kitchen. 

The one moment he finally felt at peace was when Harry asked him to decorate the pancakes with some maple syrup and passed him the bowl of strawberries he'd taken out earlier. And, as he got right to work, forgetting to breathe and blink as he put his all in putting everything in the right place on the plates, he didn't quite realize how long he'd been at it.

The wind outside was flowing in with free reign through the open kitchen windows, helping Harry in staying cool. A blow whiffed both of the Styles’ curls with a great force, causing a chuckle to escape Harry’s mouth.

“Andre? Are you done yet?” Harry asked from somewhere in the Kitchen, his hands on his hips as he looked at his child with tired eyes, but a lopsided grin on his face. He wouldn't want to disturb the boy’s work, but it had been ten minutes of him saying “just one more second" and Harry was growing antsy, trying to busy himself with making some fresh orange juice – but even that was done now, and he couldn't help himself any longer. 

“Why don't you go and wake up your sissy and mummy?” He exclaimed, knowing that Andre would not miss a chance to finally stick himself to his mummy after a long morning of having his dad annoy him. 

That pulled Andre right out of his zone, and he quickly rushed to get off the stool he'd been standing on the top of. “Yes, daddy!” He squeaked, a grin on his face that Harry caught sight of right before his gaze landed on the mess atop the kitchen island. 

A deep sigh left his mouth, and he rubbed his forehead a couple times before getting back to work, cleaning everything up as quickly he could. And also, to lick some of the maple syrup by his fingers off the breakfast because Andre had poured about half of the little bottle on the pancakes and situated the berries on the very edges of each plate. 

And, while at that, Harry quickly checked off the ‘maybe he'll become a chef’ off of his mental checklist about Andre’s career choices that he'd noticed so far – and laughed a little to himself, finally putting the glasses of the juice beside the plates.

And when he heard the kids running down the stairs, he immediately yelled out a 'Slow down, there!' while closing off the running tap. Quickly, he dried off the last two dishes and turned, frowning when he couldn't find sight of his wife.

"Where's mummy, love?" Harry asked any one of the kids, looking at them gush over the 'yummy' breakfast while drying off his hands on his pants, the kitchen towel hanging not far from him.

"Oh daddy, mummy said she would only come down if you'd ask her to," Amore quickly answered, like she'd forgotten to inform Harry that and went right back to smelling the juice. 

He stood there dumbfounded for a little, and then a giddy smile pulled up on his soft lips, quickly turning into a wide grin. He shook his head as he began climbing up the stairs hurriedly, brushing his hair out of his face with a jerk of his head.

"Now, what is this behaviour, darling?" Harry asked without having yet caught a sight of her, opening the door to their bedroom.

When he saw that she wasn’t lying in bed, the confusion caused his eyebrows to frown, until he heard the running water, and a look of realization dawned over his facial features -- causing him to turn towards the bathroom, to which the door was left slightly open ajar.

He could hear her humming a Fleetwood Mac song, potentially Landslide, with each step he took, and when he knocked on the door, all of the noises stopped at once -- the running water in the bath, her humming voice or the candle's crackling, all of it. A smirk tugged at one of his mouth's corners, and he called for her once again before asking, "Did you like your gift?" with a change in the tone of his voice.

As Harry’s mind drew an imagery of her wearing the lingerie he had got her as one of the gifts and had kept in the bathroom, he felt himself thickening in his pants. It was a colour close to Magenta, and Harry knew her body well enough to know how well it was going to suit her skin.

The thought of her chest freckles that lied rather at her cleavage peeking through was driving him insane and he was only growing more and more impatient with each passing second, his foot beginning to tap on the floor beneath. He knocked again, and Y/n swung open the door at that very second, like she'd just been reaching for the doorknob.

"Hi! Sorry, the hot water was feeling way too good this morning," she looked at him with a grin so wide that Harry was sure she had it on her face just to mock him.

She was dressed in her own clothes from head to toe but his cardigan was draped over her shoulders and Harry wasn't sure if she was doing all of this intentionally. Maybe somewhere, by the mischievous glint in her eyes, he knew -- maybe.

He jerked when she grabbed a hold of his face in the cold palms of her hands and calmed down when she pressed a chaste kiss on his mouth. "What are you thinking?" She whispered, her front teeth peeking out of her slightly open mouth, perfect contrast against her skin, as she stood so close to him that he could smell the scent of the creams she must've put on her face earlier.

His voice came out in nothing but a cracked whisper when he mumbled, "nothing."

He knew that this moment wasn't yet over as he followed behind her out of their bedroom and down the stairs. Feeling like a lost puppy suddenly, he almost only had eyes for her. That was until they reached the dining table, and he was reminded again of their kids, who must be ready for food by now.

"Mummy! What did you get?" Amore asked the moment she saw her mum, running away from Andre who seemed to be in the middle of showing her another one of his drawings.

Harry swallowed his laughter at the sight of his offended son and walked over to carry Andre over. "Mum's looking pretty, isn't she?" Harry whispered to him and grinned when the little one agreed loudly, causing Y/n to look over with a blush covering the highs of her cheeks.

"I'm not sure yet, I'll open mine after breakfast as well," Y/n shrugged as she sat on the chair Harry had pulled behind for her. Because she had panicked, she said she wasn't yet aware when in fact, she knew exactly what she'd been gifted – it was clinging to her body beneath the cozy clothing she’d gone for. So, now as she sat and brushed the girl's bangs out of her face, she wondered what white lie she would have to tell later.

Turning to face Harry, Amore asked him the same question. "What did you get, daddy?"

"Ah, it's this cute little dainty necklace! I absolutely am in love with it," Harry confessed, quickly passing Y/n a look of gratitude and adoration. "I'll show you once we finish eating, yeah?" He continued before Amore could force him to walk up the flight of stairs again.

"I know Andre loved his gift, he wouldn't stop going on and on about it when we were cooking," Harry spoke, making everyone at the table laugh. "Did you like yours, hm?" He asked his daughter.

Amore told him about how she would open hers along with her mum, and when Y/n was done putting pancakes in everyone's plates, the kids dug right into it, causing both her and Harry to warn the kids to slow down.

Shouts of praises and 'yum's were shouted at Harry, making him grin endlessly out of shyness. It was when he couldn't shrink his smile that Y/n announced him the new chef alongside Andre, making him turn to face her with pure horror coating his features.

Don't get him wrong, he absolutely loved cooking, and his son. But to cook with Andre in the same vicinity in the morning was something Harry was sure he couldn't do every single day.

The table roared with laughter and cackled all over again as Harry said that and they all continued with their breakfast with continuous chats, except for that one time that Harry choked on a berry’s crumb, causing Y/n to strictly announce that no one was going to talk with food in their mouth.

But then, Amore masterfully stole a sip of Andre's orange juice, making everyone lose it once again.

[snaillamp]

"You won't need an enemy to knock you out if you keep like this."

If you're still up to :D And so sorry that this doesn't fit with your ocs.

~Squishy

Ayye Squishy!!! Dont worry about it not being my ocs, this is a perfect excuse for leader whump which ive been wanting to do for a while :D

five second fic

~~

Dead Man Walking

Leader watched the document in front of them blur and sighed. They rubbed their eyes, trying to rid them of the double vision, their head spinning, and body heavy. Their team had been assigned a difficult mission, and they had to make sure everything was ready.

They were so tired, but still had so much to do... But they needed sleep.

They eased out of their chair with a soft grunt, yawning as the world swayed slightly, shuffling to their room. They stiffly pulled off their clothes, getting into their soft pajamas and lying down in their cold, but soft bed.

They instantly felt the aching in their bones ease, their muscles relaxing as they began to shut their eyes, only for a loud, grating alarm to snap them out of their dozing.

With a closed fist, the hit the button to make it shut up, hearing their team begin their morning. Leader groaned as the sat back up, getting to their feet and going out to join them. They could have a nap later.

As they walked into the kitchen, they heard Second in Command say something.

"Hmm?" Leader responded, looking around with bleary eyes.

"I said good morning." Second chuckled. "You look like you slept well."

Leader shrugged, making themself a large coffee, and sitting down at the table. They felt like death warmed up.

"Hey so, what's on the books for today? I know you have that meeting today too. Maybe I should take the others on a drill exercise or something while you do that?"

"Yeah, do whatever you want." Leader mumbled into their coffee, sitting up straighter to avoid their head colliding with the table.

Second narrowed their eyes, looking at Leader.

"Leader..." They whispered, so that no one else could hear. "You okay? You look like shit."

"Just haven't slept much this week... Preparing for the mission." Leader mumbled back, taking another sip of their coffee.

"How much have you slept?" They asked.

"Uhhhh....." Leader frowned as they thought, their brain slow.

"7 hours..."

Second grimaced. "Leader, 7 hours a night isn't enough, especially with the mission coming up."

"No, I mean this week. I've slept for 7 hours."

"You're telling me you've slept an hour a night every night this week?" Second said a little louder, causing everyone to look at Leader.

"It's fine. I was going to catch up on sleep today." Leader lied.

Second nodded, playing along to cover for their friend.

Leader got up, finishing their coffee and stalking away, to their office. Second followed them, watching them sit at their desk and sigh.

Leader stared at the words, but they didn't even make sense anymore. They could barely read the words, let alone make sense of what they were trying to say.

"Leader. You need to rest."

"No, I have too much to do. Don't worry about me, Second, I've managed on less sleep than this."

"I know you were up all last night. You didn't sleep at all." Second accused them. "I heard you walk to your room."

Leader grimaced, their room was next to Second's, and the only one on that end of the compound. of course Second would've known it was them.

"Go to bed for a few days. Rest, I'll handle this, its what I'm here for."

Leader shook their head. "I can't force you to take on this workload. The High Command has been giving me so much to prepare for before the misson and I'm already behind."

"So, tell them you're sick, and let me help you. Please, Leader."

"I'm fine." Leader said firmly. They glanced at their watch. "I have a meeting to get to."

Second watched hopelessly as Leader wandered off towards the front door, disappearing.

~~

"Leader." Everyone greeted the tired looking Leader. They had neatened themself up in the bathroom before they went into the meeting, and at least looked presentable, even if the shadows under their eyes were practically getting their own shadows.

Leader zoned out for most of the meeting, it was a pointless one anyway, talking about meeting quotas and making thing cheaper. Leader nodded along to the pointless graphs and data points, before they got up to leave.

The world swayed, and everything went blurry as they sat back down in the seat. Getting up again, Leader steeled themself, setting their jaw and just focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. They felt like a zombie.

They were almost home when their legs almost dropped out from under them, only for a strong arm to catch them as they fell.

"Idiot." Second grunted, heaving Leader's almost unconscious body up, and steadying them. "I was thinking," They began as they practically dragged Leader towards home. "We should take you on a training mission, get an enemy to knock you out so you get some sleep."

They jostled Leader, who had began slipping from Second's grip, grunting as they hauled Leader's arm over their shoulders.

"You won't need an enemy to knock you out if you keep going like this."

Leader smirked slightly. "You always have creative ideas." They mumbled, as Second got them inside.

The next thing they knew, they were waking up, snuggled in their bed with Medic standing over them, not looking impressed.

"Hey Leader." They started softly. "How you feeling?"

Leader's body felt drained, and heavy, like their bones were made of lead. They couldn't muster the energy to reply.

"Figures, you've been asleep for two days."

Leader's eyes widened, as they tried to sit up. They had so much to catch up on.

"No, stay down. You need sleep, we're handling everything else. Second says all your work is good, and that they'll just finish up the filler paper work while you rest."

Leader lay back, half relieved that they didn't have to move.

"Get some rest, the mission is coming up and we need you at your best."

Leader nodded, their eyes already sliding shut again.

It felt amazing.

[peachesandcreames]

What Are We? Part 3

A/N: Any and All Military Mistakes Are My Own. I'd love to thank @mrsevans90 for helping me get the ball rolling on this installment. It would not be possible without their input and feedback!

Trigger Warnings: A Vague Disclaimer is Nobody's Friend. You and you alone are responsible for your reading material. Jake Seresin is a complete menace. I tried to tag as many as possible but it wouldn't let me tag everyone and for that I apologize. Angst in the form of parental death/drunk driving. Illusion to Goose's untimely passing. Airplane accidents. A little bit of smut because this is Jake we're talking about. I think that covers it. If I missed anything please feel free to let me know! Hearts, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated ❤ Happy Reading 📚

The next morning came bright and early with Jake's alarm clock waking him. He groaned and rolled over to stop the offending noise. He slammed his hand down until he made contact and all noise ceased. Lying on his back he roughly ran his hand over his face trying to wake up, he looked out his window and the sun was barely peaking over the horizon. Today was going to be a very long day of running drills and flight plans.

Jake wished that it was you waking him up with your warm, soft lips and hands instead of his shrill alarm clock. He grabbed his phone that was sitting on his bedside table and saw that he had a missed text from you. Just seeing your name first thing in the morning brought a smile to his face. Y/N: Good Morning, Handsome. You're probably still sleeping. Call me or text me when you see this. If I don't hear from you I hope that you have a wonderful day!! xoxo Y/N

Jake tossed his phone onto his slept in bed and made his way to the head to drain the snake. His dog tags rattling around his neck and his grey sweatpants slung low on his hips. He quickly took care of business and washed his hands. He was desperate to hear your voice hoping that it would make his day go by quicker. Checking the time he saw that it was only a little bit past 6 in the morning.

He wasn't sure why you were awake so early but you hadn't texted him that long ago, he dialed your number and listened to it ringing on the other end. You picked up on the 3rd ring and answered, "Hello?" "Good morning sunshine. What are you doing awake this early?" You could hear the humor in his voice, Jake knew that you weren't a morning person at all. "Oh, ya know just thought that I would be up before the sun. You do this every day? On purpose?"

Jake let out a chuckle "hazard of the job, Sweetheart. So what are you doing up this early?" You groaned that Nat had talked you into joining her on her daily juice and jog as she called it. Phoenix always starts her day with a juice cleanse and a jog and she roped you into it. You were changing into a pair of leggings and matching Tshirt plus some sensible shoes. You pulled your hair into a messy bun and resumed your conversation.

"Oh you know, trying to fit in some sister quality time before she goes to work." You took a good long hard look in the mirror and decided that you looked fine for an early morning run. You were pretty sure that muggers wouldn't care what you looked like. "Can I ask you for a favor?" "Anytime. What you got for me?" You felt awkward asking and you figured that Jake could sense that.

"You don't have to be shy around me, remember I know what you sound like when you cum. " You could pretend to be scandalized but he was in the right. "Could I drop you my location? I'd just feel better knowing that you know where I am incase anything happens. Logically, I know that nothing will but I've definitely seen one to many true crime shows and horror movies that start with this exact scenario: Hot young women go jogging and boom they either find a dead body or end up as said dead body. "You were aware that you were rambling but couldn't stop yourself.

Jake thought it was adorable but he didn't want to diminish your anxiety and he thought it was cute that you were still shy around him after everything. "Of course you can. Do you know where Phoenix is taking you?" You pulled your phone away from your ear and googled the directions. "Mission Beach Park," you let Jake know as you scrolled through the pictures. It looked really pretty and not secluded but it was still dark outside and you'd rather be safe than sorry.

You dropped your location to Jake's cell phone and he heard the ding a few seconds later. You felt a little bit of relief that someone else knew where you would be. Now that you got that out of the way, it was time to move on to why you really texted him so early in the morning. You weren't sure how to broach the subject so you just dove right in. "So, next week Nat and I are hosting a little get together at the house. It was actually Amelia's idea and Penny's too. Everyone's invited. "

You kind of let the silence fill the void, the implication being that you were looking forward to seeing him again in a more personal setting. Jake decided to put you out of your misery, "wild horses couldn't keep me away from seeing you again. " You released the breath that you weren't aware that you were holding. "Good." Jake could practically feel your smile through the phone.

Phoenix yelled up the stairs that she was going to get ready and your freshly squeezed juice was sitting on the kitchen counter. You gave him all of the information for next week's gathering and you were hesitant to end the call. "I gotta run, literally. " You let out a snort and Jake thought you were adorable and had no problems letting you know that. "You're so goddamn adorable it hurts me. "

"Oh no, we wouldn't want you to be in any pain. You might have to come over and let me kiss it and make it better. " A sly smile on your face had Jake groaning into the phone. "Don't be a tease Y/N, you know that I'll drop everything and be there so fast your head will spin. " You gave yourself a final glance in the mirror and went downstairs to the kitchen.

You saw your juice where she said that it would be and you could hear the shower running as you took a sip of the green juice. It was surprisingly good and you finished about half. "Don't threaten me with a good time, Seresin." That brought a smile to his face as he was changing into a pair of athletic shorts and tshirt, you could hear his dog tags rattling as he slid them under his shirt. "What's on the agenda for today?"

Jake tried to keep his tone light when he told you that he was joining Coyote on his run followed by breakfast in the main dining hall followed by a few flight test runs and then being debriefed. "Just a typical day, sunshine. I should be done around 6. I'd love to take you out for dinner and drinks, pick you up and take you out on a proper date. You put on your best dress and get all dolled up for me. How's that sound?"

"I know what you're trying to do here, you're trying to distract me from you training for life and death missions, Lieutenant. " That got a laugh out of Jake. "Tell me that it's working?" You begrudgingly acknowledged that yes the idea of being wined and dined by him was definitely working on you. "Good. " You heard a banging on his door and you caught bits and pieces of his conversation with Javy. "Tell Javy that I say hi and you guys have a safe flight training."

Jake could hear the worry in your voice and he hated it. "I'll see you at 7 sharp, Princess." You tried to take the fear out of your voice so that he wouldn't worry about you being worried about him. "I'm counting down the seconds" you whispered into the phone as Nat made her way further into the kitchen to put on her running shoes. You both quietly hung up and you turned to face her.

"You ready?" You nodded and grabbed your light athletic jacket and you made sure that you had your gps on and your pepper spray. You and Nat stepped out onto your front porch and she locked the door behind you. "What are your plans for the rest of the day?" Phoenix asked you as she did some pre run stretches and you followed suit. You looked at her warily and let her know that Jake was picking you up at 7 tonight for a date. "Oohhh, the plot thickens, " she smirked at you.

"That's not until later tonight. I think that I'll look for a job or maybe I'll go back to school. I'm not sure yet what I want to do." Phoenix nodded and linked your arms together as you started to walk together towards the beach. "I'm really happy that you're planning a future here, I honestly wasn't sure if asking you to move here and uproot your entire existence was the right thing to do but I'm willing to help you figure everything out. "

"I appreciate you offering and for everything else that you have done for me. I should plan at least one trip back home to get the rest of my stuff out of storage and finalize the sale of the house." Phoenix lightly punched you on your shoulder and you looked over at her. "You know that you don't have to do everything on your own, right? I mean I'm all for being a strong independent woman but sometimes the adult thing to do is ask for help. Let me help you."

Your sister's words brought tears to your eyes and you were too choked up to speak so you just nodded yes and hugged her. "I love you, Y/N. You're my family and the squad already considers you one of us. There's no escaping it now." That made you laugh through your tears "only a crazy lady wouldn't want to be surrounded by hot U.S. Navy men and live near the ocean. "

That elicited a groan and an eyeroll from your sister who playfully kicked you in the butt. "I should have known that would have been the deal breaker for you. " You put your hands on your hips and started jogging down the path. "Catch me if you can," you called over your shoulder and kept up a steady pace. You two jogged in comfortable silence for a few miles and made it home just as the sun was rising.

Phoenix made sure that you got home safely and got her stuff ready for work and soon the house was quiet again. You made yourself a light breakfast of egg whites and avocado toast and took a quick shower. You threw your dirty clothes into the washer and changed into a pair of shorts and tank top. You found your laptop and fired it up, you were quickly burning through what little savings you had and you desperately needed a source of income. You refused to sponge off of your sister as you browsed the help wanted section.

In your previous life back home you were going to school for nursing and working part time when your world was turned upside down. You didn't want to go back to school so work it was, you emailed a few different places with your resume and hoped that someone would reach out to you soon. You cleaned up the kitchen and switched your laundry and decided that you would need something pretty to wear on your night out with Jake. You looked at the clock and saw that it was only a little bit past noon and you figured that it was as good as a time as any to text him and ask him where he was taking you so you could decide on an outfit. Standing in the middle of your room you shot him a quick text.

JAKE'S POV:

Jake was standing in line for lunch when his phone vibrated in his shorts pocket. His morning and afternoon consisted of a 5 mile run with Rooster, Bob, Payback, Coyote and Fanboy. A few laps around the track to cool down and then they hit the showers just in time for lunch in the mess hall. His blonde hair was still damp from the shower and he was starved. After lunch they'd be practicing evasive flight maneuvers.

He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out and saw that it was you asking for hints about how fancy should you dress up. He planned on taking you to the best steakhouse restaurant in San Diego. He fired off a quick text letting you know that he thought you would look stunning in a burlap sack. Two seconds later he got your response : not at all helpful, Seresin. Coyote was standing behind him and trying to look over Jake's shoulder to see who he was texting.

You had it narrowed down to a few different options and decided to send Jake some pictures and let him decide on which outfit was your best look. Unaware that Javy was still looking over Jake's shoulder he opened the picture messages and Coyote let out a wolf whistle. "Yo, who's the hottie sending you sexy pictures?!" Jake quickly put his phone back into his pocket but it was too late, the damage was done. All of the guys swarmed Jake trying to figure out who you were. Rooster and Phoenix walked in and saw the guys huddled around Jake.

"What's going on?" Phoenix asked and they all turned to look at her. Javy was the first to spill the beans, "Hangman has a hottie sending him sexy pictures and he won't share." If looks could kill there would be five mortally wounded men in the mess hall. Rooster glanced over at Phoenix and elbowed her in the side, "ain't that your sister, Y/N?" Phoenix slowly nodded her head and as she was walking towards them they at least had the common decency to scatter. "Before you attempt to rip me a new asshole she's not sending me nudes, she's asking for my opinion on outfits for our date tonight. "

That seemed to appease Phoenix as Jake showed her the pictures that you just sent him. "Tell her to go with the LBD and the black stilettos. " Jake quickly replied that he wanted to see you in that little black dress and sexy heels. With that decided the squad sat down and dug into their food. "What's on the agenda for after lunch?" Coyote asked Rooster. "We're going up in groups of four and practicing different counter strikes, basically the last two pilots flying are the winners. "

Hangman and Coyote fist bumped each other "Y'all might as well forfeit because you're looking at the winners right now. " That got a collective groan from the dagger squad as they made their way to their respective quarters to change into their flight suits. As they strode out onto the tarmac and waited for Maverick and the rest of the instructors to arrive Jake sent you one more text that he couldn't wait to see you tonight. Your reply was pretty much instantaneous: the feeling is completely mutual. See you soon 😉. The first four pilots got into their fighter jets and taxied down the runway.

Jake, Coyote, Phoenix and Bob were next. Everything was going according to plan, Hangman was in his element in the sky until he made a move to counteract Phoenix's attack and the sun was in his eyes and he didn't see the incoming flock of birds getting sucked into his plane's engine and everything started going haywire and he couldn't get it back under control. The next thing he knew was going into a spin and all of the fighter jets alarms started going off. "Pull up!" Coyote shouted at Jake as he struggled to bring it back under control. "I can't! All systems are in failure!! Eject!! Eject!! Eject!!"

Y/N POV

It was getting closer to 7 pm and Jake should be here any second now. You curled your hair and pulled it into a loose pony tail, you sprayed enough hair spray to put another hole in the ozone layer and once you were satisfied that not even a hurricane could move your hair you moved to put the finishing touches on your makeup. You went with a classic cat eye and fire engine red lipstick, you were spraying some perfume and getting your black clutch that matched your outfit and you heard the doorbell. You smiled as you grabbed a black leather jacket and made your way downstairs and opened the door expecting to see Jake but it was Maverick and Hondo instead. Your smile faltered and you felt your stomach sink.

"Hey Pete, Hondo. Is everything okay? Is Jake running late and he sent you to keep me preoccupied until he gets here?" Pete couldn't look at you and Hondo had his head down. Pete shook his head and cleared his throat, "I'm really sorry Y/N, earlier today we were flying flight maneuvers and patterns and there was an incident involving Hangman and Coyote. They lost contact with the control tower and ejected somewhere over the desert. Their GPS gave their last known location but it's not exact coordinates. Search and Rescue are out looking right now. "

You couldn't hear Pete but his lips were moving and Hondo looked to be on the verge of crying. You couldn't breathe, your chest felt tight and it hurt to inhale. Pete made a move to step inside your house and it all went silent. You must have dropped the stuff that you were holding but you didn't realize it. You tried to shove past them but they gently stopped you.

"No, I...we...he....had plans...." you weren't sure when you started crying but you were on the verge of hysterics and everything was happening at lightning speed while you felt like you were sinking in quicksand. Their words running through your head: Jake...Coyote....accident...desert....search and rescue. You couldn't focus, you couldn't breathe. You just knew that you couldn't sit here and wait for word if they were alive or dead. You must have made it to your room to change into jeans and a sweater.

It gets cold at night in the desert and you couldn't help but think are they hurt? Are they cold? Are they injured? Are they... no. Not possible. You wouldn't allow yourself to entertain the thought. You were frantically looking for a flashlight that you had somewhere and you found it under a pile of clothes, you saw Jake's brown bomber jacket and you grabbed that too. You ran down the stairs and grabbed your car keys sitting in the dish by the door.

Pete was chasing after you but you were quicker than him and Hondo. You got in your car and drove as fast as you could towards the base. "Shit, Hondo we have to get there before Y/N. She doesn't have the credentials to get on base and she's not thinking clearly. Text Phoenix and let her know that Y/N is headed that way. "

Hondo nodded and let Phoenix know that you knew what happened and were driving like a bat out of hell. The ride to the base was quiet and somber, Phoenix let them know that she was waiting for you at the gate. "Do you think that they're ok?" Pete took his eyes off the road for a split second and shook his head. "I honestly don't know, I really hope that they are. Y/N and Phoenix lost their parents not too long ago in a drunk driving accident. I don't think that Y/N would be able to recover losing someone who she cares about so soon after...."

You somehow made it to the base in record time without being pulled over for speeding. You barely put the car in park and jumped out leaving the keys in the ignition and the drivers side wide open. Pete and Hondo pulled in after you, "Y/N! Wait!" Their pleas fell on deaf ears and you barely recognized your sister standing at the entrance. "Natasha!! You were flying with him and Javy!! What happened?!" Pete parked your car in the visitors area and pocketed your keys and followed you onto the base and into a waiting vehicle designated to take you to the search and rescue site. "I'll fill you in on the way but you have to promise me that you'll stay out of the way and let the professionals do their job, promise me?"

You couldn't speak so you weakly nodded yes. Nat filled you in without going into to much detail. You felt stupid and weak for crying in front of your sister and her superiors but you didn't care. You couldn't lose Jake so soon after losing your parents. You made it to command central, military personnel and ATVs were scouring the desert.

Nat led you to the makeshift shelter that they had set up. It was at best controlled chaos and pandemonium. Radio chatter and flood lights overwhelmed your senses. You were numb and just standing under the white canvas tent staring into the inky darkness. You felt more than saw someone slip a wool blanket over your shoulders and hand you a cup of coffee.

You glanced over and saw that it was Rooster. He gave you a sad smile, you took the coffee into your ice cold hands and quietly thanked him. You took a sip and grimaced at the black bitterness but it was just what you needed. It was beginning to thaw out your hands and you were grateful. "We don't have to talk but just so you know I'm here for you. "

You were too overwhelmed with emotions to thank him but you hoped that he could tell you appreciated him and his efforts. Rooster led you over to a chair and you all about collapsed. Rooster sat next to you and ran his hand over your back in comfort. You had a million different questions and you wanted to ask but you thought it would be inconsiderate. You had a death grip on your coffee cup and your leg was bouncing wildly.

Rooster's big hand was on your leg trying to cease your jumpy movements. You put your hand over his and held on so tightly that your knuckles were turning white. There was a lull in the commotion and you could hear excited chatter throughout the crowd of military personnel. ".....found the wreckage ..... ejected....no sign of......bringing in trackers...."

Your head snapped up at the mention of trackers being brought in to help with the search. You looked at Rooster with hope in your tear stained eyes and he didn't have the heart to tell you that it wasn't always a good sign. He didn't have it in him to add to your heartbreak. "What does that mean? That's good, right? They walked away from the crash? They're still alive?!" Rooster silently pleaded with Maverick and he came and sat on your other side. "It's too early to tell but we should know something soon."

Dejected and overwhelmed with worry you felt a fresh set of tears forming behind your eyes. You were starting to succumb to exhaustion and fatigue. Your eyes drooping shut, you just decided to close your eyes and rest your head on Rooster's shoulder. Soon enough you let the comfort of darkness consume you completely with one last thought of Jake and Javy. Please let him come back to me.

~fin~

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[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Breakfast in Margate (Alfie Solomons x Reader)

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Modern AU

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3.2K

Warnings: A grumpy Papa Solomons (yes, that is a warning) and a whole lot of tooth-rotting domestic fluff

Summary:

Mornings aren’t always easy. For example, it’s terribly difficult to not be caught making breakfast for your fiancé, a workaholic who always takes the task upon himself.

However, what makes it harder today is the fact he loathes food made with recipes found online. Fortunately for you, though, Alfie isn’t the only one who’s good at playing games when he wants to push his own agenda.

Especially those that concern a sweet reward.

Author’s note: I've kept Alfie's adherence to his Jewish heritage quite loose. Nevertheless, I hope that the aspects I did incorporate in this work have been done so properly. If not, let me know and please don't hesitate to educate me (in a polite and respectful manner) because I love learning about different cultures and religions.

Tag List: @potter-solomons @zablife @wandawiccan60 @dreamlandcreations @liliac-dreamer @buttercupsandboys @vir-tual @rose-like-the-phoenix @hoodeddreams13 @mollybegger-blog @solomons-finest-rum @hecatemoon87 @babaohhhriley

TH Masterlist

Mornings like this are rare, these quiet moments unbroken by the usual ruckus in the kitchen. Now, it’s solely my bare feet on the wooden floor and the waves crashing onto the shore. No clanging of metal, no muttered curses in Yiddish or Russian, nor the scent of freshly brewed coffee. 

In the living room, Cyril lays in front of the hearth. The first rays of sunshine fall over him like a warm natural blanket, highlighting the ginger undertone in his fur. One of the many features he shares with his owner. 

As soon as I pass by, he lifts his head, tilts it in wonder, and lets out a low bark. After all, it’s Alfie who’s more often than not the first one to wander around the house at the crack of dawn. That is, if he’s slept at all. However, recently he’s started properly adhering to the Shabbat. Although, as much as he allows himself to because if Alfie Solomons is one thing, it’s mighty stubborn. Moreover, he’s an incurable workaholic. As hard as he works at The Old Rum House Bakery to let the business flourish and maintain his position as the fearsome Mad Baker of Camden, just as much effort does he put into our relationship. In fact, it’s not only towards Cyril and I his attention goes, but also to the house.

Our home.

Alfie has become a lot more domestic since we started dating, shortly after meeting one another on a train to London. Disregarding his tendency to walk around naked, he cooks and cleans, assuring me time and again I don’t have to help. When we go out for our weekly grocery trip, no matter how tired he is, he carries the bags to the car so that I don’t have to. Neither do I have to put away what we got, more often than not shipped off to the luxurious red sofa in the living room with a cup of coffee or tea to pair with whatever he’s baked at night. 

Nevertheless, regardless of the otherwise very loose relationship with his heritage, Ollie and I are glad he’s at least taking a day off in the week to rest up. The bakery has recently started taking its toll thanks to an influx in customers, which means extra stock as well as staff is needed. In turn, this means more part-timers to train and more admin work. In other words, everyone has to pick up the pace to meet the current demand. Such is the power of marketing, especially on social media. Alfie is loath to admit it, but Ollie and I can tell he’s secretly grateful we managed to convince him to let us handle the bakery’s socials.

We don’t get cinnamon buns on Monday anymore, though.

I stop in my tracks, turn to Cyril, and put a finger to my lips. “I know, love, but Papa is still sleeping. It’s finally Mama’s turn to make breakfast again.”

Seldom do I get the chance to experiment in the kitchen, let alone try a recipe I’ve found online. Or worse, via Youtube or Instagram. Now, that’s usually enough to make Alfie bristle. Nevertheless, mention the word ‘viral’ and a scowl will twist his lips.

Sometimes I wonder whether or not Alfie and Cyril are the same person because he lowers his head onto his paws and lets out a deep sigh that sounds like sarcastic resignation.

Thanks for the faith, buddy.

“It’s gonna be okay. No fire in the pan this time, I promise. How about we go stretch our legs after brekkie, hm? That sound good?”

Cyril huffs in agreement and closes his eyes, back to enjoying his luxurious pillow. 

We bought it for him when we went antique shop hopping in London last week. Although, perhaps it’s better to say I bought it after convincing my grumpy companion we should occasionally pamper our adopted four-legged child and I couldn’t fix his old pillow anymore. Of course I could, but I was more than done with constantly needing to fix the seams and re-stuff the thing.

Borough Market has become a regular stop on our weekly grocery trip, mostly because I used the splendidly efficient strategy of batting my lashes and pouting. Artisan goods and fresh produce can be luxuries, something to only occasionally splurge on. After all, why spend a fortune when there is a cheaper alternative that’s just as good? 

Nonetheless, Alfie developed a taste for supporting local businesses soon after our first visit. To some he has proposed contracts, offering them a position as a supplier to his bakery. Granted their goods are kosher, of course.

Yesterday, we got some wonderful fresh bright yellow bananas, eggs from a local farm, and oat flour from a mill a little ways away from London. Alfie thought little of it when I plonked them triumphantly in our grocery bag, having occupied himself with the fresh stock one of the florists was setting out. I glance at the colourful bouquet of wildflowers on the table and for a moment I’m back to him holding out to me, face full of the warm tenderness that stands in stark contrast to the stern and unpredictable persona he portrays when I’m not there. 

Right then and there, he wasn’t The Mad Baker of Camden, the fearsome King who rules the borough.

He was a sweet and caring gentleman.

Simply Alfie Solomons.

Nevertheless, in spite of these small moments of tenderness, he can still be awfully grumpy.

Especially if he hasn’t had his coffee.

“Mornin’, dove.” Two big warm hands glide over my hips towards my lower stomach. Those very same palms pull me flush against a naked chest grown soft with neglected muscle, slightly clammy with the remainder of last night’s late summer heat. Alfie presses his lips to the side of my neck and hums, tightening the embrace as he does so. The sonorous trill in his voice sends a shiver down my spine and rekindles a familiar heat. Nonetheless, the way he leans on me betrays he isn’t entirely awake yet. The slight slur in his words serve to confirm the lingering drowsiness, sounding like they’ve been pulled out of bed only moments before too. “That shirt looks good on you.”

“I’m glad you think so because you’re not getting it back any time soon.” I briefly stop mixing the batter to scratch his beard. He closes his eyes and leans into the touch as a content sigh escapes him. “You slept in.”

“Still woke up to an empty spot, though. If you want me to sleep more, yeah, which you know I find a terrible waste of time, I’ll need my wife to ‘old.”

I pat his hands to placate him. The thin gold band inlaid with a modest diamond around my ring finger matches his. I had thought Alfie would pick something elaborate for himself, but instead he chose a simple thick gold ring and got it engraved. It says: Ani l’dodi, v’dodi li; I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine. “Don’t get hasty. We aren’t married yet.”

“Let’s just go to the courthouse today.’’ He slips his hands beneath the fabric of the shirt I stole from him, letting them rest on my stomach after a brief caress. It’s a gesture he often makes nowadays. ‘‘Sign the paper, right, and be done with it so the desk eaters are ‘appy. We can always celebrate it later. Throw a party as big as the whole of bloody Camden, like a proper coronation ceremony to celebrate our union.”

“Tempting as it is, I’ll have to refuse. Besides, it's Shabbat today and you need to take a break. I promise I can wait a little while longer to officially become Mrs Solomons.”

“You ‘ave been from the start, Y/N. I don’t need a ring to call you my wife. ‘Sides, you well know ‘ow I am. Which reminds me, breakfast is my job, innit?” A wary tone creeps into his voice as he leans away to check what’s in the mixing bowl. “Is that edible?”

“It will be,” I say, continuing to mix the ingredients until they’re well combined.

“I’m not eatin’ that goo. Looks fucking awful, that stuff.”

“It’s healthy goo! Uses the bananas, eggs, and flour we got yesterday.”

Nose scrunched, Alfie peers at me. “Oh, so yesterday was all a little scam to get me to eat whatever this is?”

“You aren’t the only one who can lie. Although, it’s not really a lie, is it? More like a half-truth.’’ I shrug. ‘‘I simply never told you my plan. Would ruin the surprise.”

“Which is?”

“Baked oats that taste like cake. They just haven’t been baked yet.”

“Where’d you get the recipe?”

“YouTube…”

He groans, wide awake now that the conversation has taken a turn towards a point of absolute irritation. “Fucking ‘ell, dove, ‘ow many times ‘aven’t I told you not every recipe on social media-’’

“Don’t judge before you’ve tried it.” I put the spatula down, turn around in his embrace and steal a kiss off of his lips. “Said so yourself, didn’t you?”

“Don’t use my words against me.”

“Oh, I will. If only to keep things fair. Have a little faith in me. It’ll be fine.”

I hope.

A warning finger raised and pointed at me, he leans in until our faces are mere inches apart. “Fine. But I’m gonna make us coffee, right, so we’ll at least ‘ave something to get us fucking started.”

I can’t suppress a chuckle at the grumpy gesture. “Sure.”

The threat turns into tenderness when he cups my cheek. His palm has grown rough with the hours spent at the bakery, proof of his hard work. Tenderly, he presses his lips to mine. “Ikh hab dir lib.”

“I know.” To show I accept his usual indirect apology for his bad mood and avoid coming across as being cross with me, I run my fingers along his jaw. “I love you too.”

Resting his forehead against mine, he nudges my nose with his. “Mhm.”

“Why don’t you take Cyril for a brief walk, eh? The oats have to bake for twenty-five minutes anyway.”

“We can take ‘im on a walk later together. I’ll go set the table.”

“First put on a pair of knickers.”

“No.”

“You know the rules, Alfie. No buns on the chairs during summer.”

“I ain’t sweating.”

“Not yet.”

“Maybe you’re the one who isn’t.”

I cock an eyebrow, fighting the smug smirk threatening to break out. “That so?”

“Yeah,” he drawls, “first we’ll ‘ave coffee, right, ‘cause otherwise neither of us functions. Now, ‘ow about after we’ve started the day proper I’ll fuck you like last night, hm?”

Until I black out. 

The prospect of it mixes with memories of last night. Sea blue eyes, usually so steady and full of hidden temperaments, barely able to refrain from going cross-eyed. The fight with the stutter in his hips, gradually growing closer to the edge of pleasure but also exhaustion. Big hands reminiscent of wolf paws gripping the headboard for support while I was already lost in a satisfied delirium. The absent-minded glance to the bruises on my thighs adds to the steadily growing heat between my legs, perversely longing for more.

For him.

Nevertheless, the haze clears in an instant with a single sharp thought. I take a step back, crossing my arms as I search his expression for confirmation. However, as usually is the case, Alfie keeps his true motifs to himself. And this time, behind a mask he tends to put on when he wants something from me in particular. “So you can make breakfast. That’s what you’re getting at, aren’t you?”

“No,” he purrs, stealing a kiss as soon as he has bridged the distance between us, “not at all, dove. I just want my wife. I wanna make love to you.” We softly start to sway, slowly making our way out of the kitchen. “Let me make love to you.”

We come to a halt on the threshold. “Later. After you put on a pair of knickers and we’ve eaten.”

He blinks, the cheeky smile grown stiff. I can feel his muscles tense, unconsciously causing him to grip me a bit tighter than before. “But-’’

“Knickers, Alfie.”

“One round.”

“Alfred Solomons Jr, knickers. Right now.”

The use of his full name provokes a menacing snarl, the kind which is usually preserved for those who cross him. “Those oats better be fucking worth it, yeah, ‘cause otherwise you’re payin’ for lunch.”

I trace his cock, the skin hot and hardening beneath my fingertips with every sharp intake of breath. Perhaps this game won’t go on for as long as it usually does before he loses control. “Somehow I don’t think I will.”

He roughly grips my face, the thrill of every low-voiced word against my lips travelling throughout my body. “I ought to do somethin’ ‘bout that attitude of yours. Big fucks small, Y/N, always.”

Game over.

Except for the one card I have left to play.

“I know,” I wrap my hand around him, barely able to grip him properly, “but first some knickers. Please, Papa?”

“Clever bird, ain’t ya?” He growls into the kiss when I lightly squeeze him and let go. “Maybe I should carry out my own personal form of stigmata later. Add to those pretty bruises.”

Like snow in the spring sun, his attitude melts and changes. Alfie gently nudges my cheek and makes for the bedroom. A few moments later, he returns and starts setting the table while I pour the batter in the ramekins and plop them in the oven.

Despite the promise to make coffee, I reach for the cupboard to grab a mug. After all, old habits die hard.

Nevertheless, I find myself cut off by a hand that gently lowers mine, away from the handle.

“I said I’ll make us coffee,” Alfie grumbles. “Let Papa Solomons do ‘is job, yeah. Go sit in the livin’ room. I’ll be there shortly.”

I nod at the baking aftermath in the sink. “I got some washing up to do.”

“Nah, that can wait. Coffee and, ‘opefully, food first.” He places his hands on my shoulders and kindly coerces me out of the kitchen. “Go on.”

I let him guide me, feigning defiance by pouting. Yet, the act quickly falls apart with a lighthearted giggle. I suppose I still have a lot to learn from him concerning the art of masks. “Alright.”

Soon after he joins me on the porch, where I’ve settled down with Cyril to enjoy the salt air. The beach across the street is still empty, devoid of the plethora of towels. The breeze is silent, not yet filled with the chatter of tourists and locals alike.

These hours are ours.

This is our Margate.

“'Ere you go, love.” Alfie hands me a steaming mug of cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso, the milk soft and foamy, before he sits down next to me. I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes as I take a sip. “Nice, innit?”

“Mhm.”

Thus we sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the view and each other’s company. Cyril has started to doze off, although he tries in vain to keep his eyes open. One glance to the side tells of Alfie fighting the same battle. Occasionally he pulls a face or lifts his hand to stifle a yawn. It’s strangely funny to watch him continue to take a sip afterwards, a small gesture of hope. Surely he should be readily awake before his cup is empty.

Because sleeping isn’t an option.

He’s tired of the nightmares.

The faint sound of the oven going off disturbs the domestic bliss.

Alfie groans as struggles to get up, glad to have my arm to use as support while he pulls himself to his feet. I say nothing, knowing full well how his sciatica influences his mood.

And it’s already rotten enough in the morning.

As Alfie washes his hands, I get the baked oats out of the oven and place them on the plates. Meanwhile, Alfie warms up a few slices of babka and the challah bread we made together yesterday. “Just so we ‘ave somethin’.”

He sits down while I wash my hands. From the corner of my eye, I see him poke the oats with his fork. “It’s kosher?”

“It is,” I say, drying my hands before I sit down across from him. “Shall I go first?”

“Very funny.” He scoops a bit of the oats onto his fork and puts it in his mouth. His brows knit together, contemplating the taste.

“And? Do you like it?” 

Remaining silent and gaze fixed on the ramekin, he pokes his oats again. 

I swallow hard, my excitement crushed under the stones of dread. A nagging voice in the back of my head feeds into the fear of his judgement. Funny how one connects their self worth to food. Then again, it was that which started our relationship. A cup of coffee, a slice of babka, and a slice of plant-based carrot cake. Back then, though, my stomach didn’t quiver this badly nor did my ribs feel like they were caged in a very tight-strung corset. “You don’t.”

“Dove,” he begins, but doesn’t continue. 

Not until after he’s had another bite. “It’s good.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or simply trying to appease me.”

“I’m serious.”

“You are?”

“I am,’’ he says, raising his voice ever so slightly in spite of the effort to keep it even. Alfie finally meets my gaze and I can tell he’s being sincere regardless of the way he accusingly waves his fork at me. ‘‘But I still don’t like 'ow you got this off of the internet. ‘Ow many times ‘aven’t I told you, hm? You should know better by now.”

I chuckle as I at last taste the baked oats myself. They’re chocolatey with a subtle banana undertone, which is warmed by the cinnamon. “I gotta find new recipes somehow.”

“There are cookbooks.”

“Too limited and they take up too much space.” While nibbling on a piece of challah bread, I take a sip of coffee. “Can I make this more often?”

“It does taste like cake,” he reluctantly admits, spooning up another bite. “Yes, you can.”

“Why do you make it sound like there’s a condition?”

“You can make these oats, yeah, if I get to serve you something sweet in return.”

Something not to be had in the kitchen.

‘‘Deal,’’ I lean in, biting my lip as I play my final card, ‘‘Papa.’’

Alfie clenches his fork upon hearing his favourite nickname, the title he is secretly proud of. A dark haze clouds his eyes, the gloss in them highlighted by the morning sun. The smirk on his lips has evened out, his jaw tightened with the effort to practise self-restraint. 

Game over.

I won.

And the prize is something sweet with lots of cream.

[nyxmisfortune]

Learning how to lead🍄🍀

Pairing - The crow x reader

Warnings - a bit of hurt/comfort

Summary - Crow is worried about becoming hunter vanguard, and despite never being in a position of leadership he asks you what to do

Notes - 3rd fic of today guys. The final shape has given me so many fic ideas. Expect more:]

Crow had come to you in a panic in the middle of the night. When you open the door you’re half asleep self barely recognizes the man. Between his new hair cut and his new cloak he looks almost completely different.

"hey guardian. It's important." Crow is not someone who often just shows up unannounced, so you let him inside.

He sits on your couch and you offer to make him some tea. "No thanks. I'll be quick"

You nod and sit next to him. "Crow? Are you alright?" you look at him, worried at how nervous he seems. He doesn't look at you and instead stares at his lap."...crow?"

"Guardian? How do you... How do you lead?"

"What? Why would you ask me? I've never been an any sort of leadership role. Why not ask Osiris? Or Saint? Or Zavala?" your confusion is immeasurable. There are so many other people he could ask, why ask you?

"I don't know. I realized I would be in charge of an entire group of people and I've never done anything like that" Crow finally looks over at you. “I was thinking of who to ask, and you were the first person

"Have you slept? At all?" he looks like he has'n't slept in a week. He doesn't answer, but you take that awnser enough. You stand up and go into your kitchen. Now would be a good time for that tea.

You bring him a mug and he takes it with a mumbled thank you. "You knew Cayde when he was vanguard. What did he do?" Crow asks before taking a sip of his drink.

"Honestly? Cayde was amazing, but he never did any sort of paperwork. Just keep the hunters in line and do the paperwork I guess." You take a sip of your own drink.

"...Cayde was well liked, right?" Crow stares into the dark liquid, swirling it around in his cup.

"Ya. I mean, everyone loved him. I think he was the favorite out of everyone.” Crow looks even more nervous at that.

"Will they be upset that I'm the one taking the role?" 

"I mean...some people are bound to be upset. People don't like change. They'll learn to love you just like they learnt to love Cayde.” you put your hand on his shoulder. "Just give it time and you'll get used to the role.”

Crow finally smiles. "...Thank you guardian." 

"Of course. But if you need any sort of actual leading advice? Please ask Zavala. I barely know how to lead a fireteam, I can't help you with that."

He laughs “Duely noted.”

[euijoosorangeslice]

Can I request teacher k and spanking please? Thank you!!1

A+

warnings: teacher-student relationship, cheating, slight non-con (power difference), age gap (reader is a uni student and k is well…a teacher. At most 7 year age gap), fingering, oral {fem recieving}, harddom!k, exbhitionism; creampie, spanking.

Your first year of college was coming to a close. You had mostly all A’s, except for in one class. In Mr. Koga’s class, you had mostly slept for the entire year. Who wants to be awake at 8am on a Monday after getting blackout drunk the night before?

But you landed yourself a D in his class. Barely, since you were only three points away from failing that class. The final exam was worth half your grade anyway, so if you could just ace it then you’d be in the clear! As soon as the test was placed in front of you, your heart dropped. Shit. You had no idea how to do anything on this paper. Okay, what the hell is a hypotenuse?

You just bubbled random answers and sat there until the testing time was up. Let’s just hope your instincts were amazing. As your teacher started instructing on what courses you’d need to take next for which credits, you found it easy to get lost in his eyes. Was it wrong to want to kiss your teacher? His lips looked pretty nice today, maybe it wouldn’t be too bad dating an older guy.

You shook the thoughts from your head when the Mr.Koga stared passing back exams. He tapped a finger on your desk, your imagination running wild with the veiny orientation of his hand. "You need to see me after class." Mr. Koga whispered, sliding your exam onto your desk. You picked up the test, and low and behold, you got a 45%. Fuck, couldn't atleast get a fifty? Now you were definitely failing his class. He finished passing out tests, going on some dumb rant about how many people passed over the failed amount, which was practically everyone but you.

Maybe you were just a dumbass. Anyway, your professor dismissed the class and you walked over to his desk, swaying your hips as your tiny little skirt hugged your ass. "Y/n, I'm quite concerned with your scores on your test." He looked up, seeing your cute boobs being pushed up by your tight little shirt. "I've never had anyone do this bad on my exams. Is everything okay at home?" He leaned back in his chair, watching as you bit on the back of your black pen.

You pouted, placing a hand on his desk. "I don't know, Mr. Koga. I think I've been having a hard time focusing. This class is fucking boring." His eyebrows furrowed roughly, scoffing. "I'm sorry? Do you think my class is a joke?" You leaned over his desk, giggling in his face. "Mr. Koga, I barely even know what class this is."

"I don't appreciate your attitude, sweetie. You need to act right or I'm gonna have to punish you." You squeezed your thighs together at his harsh tone. Fuck, that's definitely a turn on. "Oh yeah? What are you gonna do? Suspend me?" You teased, Kei sucking his teeth. "I could do that. Or I could give you another option," Kei stood up, placing himself inches away from your face.

"You could fuck me for an A. I know you've been thinking of me like that. So I could report you, or I could fuck you. Bend you over my desk and make you a good girl just for me, hm? Is that what you want?" You could've sworn you were dreaming. You hopped over his desk, bending over into his lap. "Oh, Mr. Koga. I think I need some help making a decision."

Wasting no time, he pulled you by your hair and grabbed your waist. "Let's take these dumb panties off." He grumbled, your chest pressed against the cold wood table as he lifted your skirt. "I'm starting to think you're really a slut. Wearing a lacy thong to school? You just want me inside of you." He pulled the underwear down, looking at your wet folds. "Aw, you really want me bad. Dripping all over my floor." He slapped your ass, watching you slightly jump. "Fuck! Mister Koga." You whined, arching your back into his touch. "Call me sir."

He slid two of his fingers into your hole, caressing your ass as he slowly slid them in. Randomly spanking you as he fingered your hole. "Yes, sir!" He chuckled, unbuckling his slacks. "Where'd that attitude go baby? I thought you wanted to be a brat." He teased, roughly spanking your ass. "I'll be a good girl, promise!" He gripped your thighs, kneeling down to be facing your wetness. He buried his face into your ass, taking a long, deep breath in. "Fuck, such a pretty little girl." He spat, tonguing your clit as he put his fingers deeper inside of you. You squirmed, Kei holding you in place.

"Sir, i-it feels so good! Please, need you in me." You moaned, gripping the desk as you felt the sensation of your boobs rubbing against the wood. He pulled away from your dripping wet pussy, dropping his slacks to the floor. He picked you up, placing you onto your back. He started chuckling to himself. "Damn. I forgot to lock the door. Anyone could just walk in and see you slutting out for your teacher." He palmed his cock, grabbing it from his boxers and slowly shoving it into you without warning.

"Wait, S-sir 'm a virgin!" You squeaked in pain, Kei quickly pulling out. "Really? Shit, I'm sorry, angel. Here, I think I have lube in my bag." Kei squirted some of the cold gel onto his fingers rubbing it over his dick. "Alright, I think that's enough." He mumbled, massaging your thighs. "I'm going in now, okay?" You nodded rapidly, feeling his tip push past your entrance. "Sorry for the stretch." He whispered into your ear, holding your hip as he pushed further in. "F-fuck!" You moaned, feeling like Kei was inside of your womb. "I'm all in. You want me to keep going?"

"Yes, sir. Think I'm ready." You whispered, Kei slightly pulling out and pushing back in. He picked up his pace, lifting your leg over his shoulder. "Fuck, your pussy feels so good. Tight little girl, hm?" Your boobs bounced against your chest as he moved, your eyes rolling back. "Mm, Sir! Feels so good." You moaned loudly, Kei smirking. "Yeah? Damn, you're definitely getting an A for this. Never felt a cunt like this before baby." He spoke, accenting his words with a few hard thrusts. His hand slid down to your clit, vigorously rubbing it as he drilled his cock inside of you.

Feeling your orgasm approach, your legs began to close, but Kei forced them back open. "Don't be shy, angel. I know I'm making you feel good. Just go ahead and cum for me." Your legs crossed behind his back, forcing him to stay inside of you. "You want me to cum inside of your pretty little hole? Tryna get knocked up by your teacher, aren't you?" He sped up, chasing his own orgasm. "Yes! Fuck, please cum inside of me sir." You begged, Kei groaning in pleasure. As you reached your orgasm, you clenched around him, making him cum inside of you.

"Shit. Fuck, I-I'm going to be in so much trouble of you get knocked up." Kei mumbled, his brain starting to reason with himself. You giggled, slowly sitting up onto his desk. "I think you should be more concerned about cheating on your wife, Mr. Koga." He rolled his eyes, massaging your thighs. "Well, we need a divorce anyway." You smiled, placing a kiss on his cheek. "If you want to get remarried, I think I know a good candidate. She might be having your baby."

[lovechrissturniolo]

5/ day one - morning

contains: Lea & Chris talking and being interested in/ looking at each other

After a 30 minutes intro Chris and Matt played Fortnite.

As the day was just dawning, Lea - sitting in the living area - noticed an unfavorable change in the light in Chris's room and she texted him:

I have to adjust your light if it`s possible? Your room is a literal lighting challenge!

No problem, go ahead. I open the door so they can't hear when you come in.

Chris tried to concentrate on the game as she slipped into his room, but he couldn't help but watch her out of the corner of his eye.

She had this deliberate posture and highly concentrated look when she was working.

It was kind of cute.

Lea was wearing blue jeans and a black baby-T, her long hair tied into a messy bun and subtle make-up. Chris had to admit to himself that she looked pretty good.

Her belt and the lower part of her belly were visible as she leaned over the table behind the camera making adjustments to the ring light.

〽️

Her being here during the stream was definitely better than some old guy, he thought to himself again.

Immediately afterward, he heard Matt yell and realized he'd been shot down.

“Chris! You're an idiot!”

“Fuck, sorry!” he shouted back, ruffling his hair.

As Chris leaned back in his chair, he caught Lea's gaze, who silently formed the word “Sorry!” and twisted the corner of her mouth.

He waved his hand to indicate that it wasn't her fault and smirked without looking directly at her.

“What's funny about that, you moron?” Matt joked from above.

“Nothing!” Chris answered, laughing about his stupid fault and rubbed his eyes. “Bro, I don't think I've ever played Fortnite this early in the morning! You can't expect my full concentration!”

“You better focus, man! We almost won that round!”

“Yeah yeah, all right! Go!”

Lea sat down on Chris's bed with her laptop and phone.

Sorry for the interruption!! I'll be off again in a minute.

You can also stay! You're not bothering me.

〽️

After the light was set, she moderated the chat without changing her location again to avoid making too much noise.

The madness in the comments was limited - probably because it was still early in the morning - so Lea kept catching herself watching Chris play.

He was one of the most expressive people she had ever met. Concentration, anger, excitement, joy - it was as if his whole body showed how he was feeling in every moment.

Something about his posture and facial expression was so fascinating that she could barely look away.

It was undeniably a beautiful sight to see him on her screen from the front and live from the side.

〽️

Chris noticed out of the corner of his eye that Lea looked over at him once in a while.

He somehow liked it and wondered what was going on in her head. Probably just the lighting situation, but maybe also personal interest?

Chris couldn't really log into Fortnite today, causing him to blow one game after another.

Eventually Matt had enough and they decided to have breakfast and try again later.

Lea disconnected Chris's computer from the stream, stated: "It's off." and gave him a thumbs up.

They unintentionally stretched at the same time and smiled sheepishly when they realized it. “Sorry about the interruption earlier. It shouldn't happen again.”

“Oh, please." Chris relented. "That's not the reason, I'm just still tired and play like shit!”

“That I can't judge, even though I've watched you guys play often.” Lea smiled.

〽️

Chris dropped onto the couch, stretched his hands over his head and mumbled: “I really should have slept more!"

“You didn't?” she asked casually.

“Not really well. Probably too nervous.”

“You guys really don't need to stress. Literally everything you try turns to gold anyway.”

“Nick says, you always have to be a little uncomfortable to be comfortable. That's what we do and why it works, I guess."

“That actually applies to my life too, I have to say,” Lea replied thoughtfully.

“You know what, I'd like to know more about that!” Chris replied quickly, sensing his chance to find out more about her and sat up.

Lea smiled involuntarily and wondered whether she was feeling a little too comfortable right now.

〽️

“You need to go support Matt, I think.”

“Is he already on camera in the kitchen?”

“Yes, he texted me to switch over right away.”

“Damn, this kid needs to chill, we'll be here for a while!” Chris sighed and made his way to the door.

“We talk later. I'll bring something for breakfast when I come back."

next ➡️

⬅️ index

[skateisawesome]

im gonna tell them today. i'm going to tell my parents that i need help.

long story version here:

this morning i slept in and woke up after class started, this is the third time i've done that this year. last time i did it they told me that it was never allowed to happen again.

i get it and i think its fair because i shouldn't be sleeping through school.

nine months ago i begged my mother to let me go to therapy. i told her that i had hurt myself and that sometimes i found it hard to eat. i told her everything and explained that i desperately wanted a diagnosis for what was wrong with me. she agreed and said we could do that. we never did.

its been nine months and she hasn't even asked me if i'm doing okay. not once.

so when she called me this morning and asked me why i wasn't at school yet i nearly screamed it down the phone.

but i'm a bit more calm now and i've decided i'm gonna tell her that i'm exhausted all of the time and i sleep at school and i sleep when i get home and no matter how long i sleep im so tired. i'm going to tell her that it's been nine months and that i meant it when i said i wanted to go to therapy.

im scared but i need help man. i can't keep doing this. i can barely keep doing anything.

anyway somebody give me advice please

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #222

Today, my brain was some kind of frozen, foggy ghost soup.

I ended up going to sleep later than I should have last night. It was for good reason, but still. From there, the sleep I did get was broken and weird. I'm not really sure what happened. I haven't slept this poorly in a long time.

I spent most of today wafting in and out of a thick, heavy brain fog. I feel badly about it because Br was over (she had stayed the night, which was awesome!), and I wasn't very good company. I could barely remain in the present, let alone participate especially meaningfully in any kind of verbal discussion.

Nonetheless, I made bacon-wrapped hotdogs for breakfast, with cheese. And to give you an idea of how utterly foggy my brain was... I did not think to take a picture for you. During like, the entire process. I feel really awful about it. I'm really sorry.

Tell you what: I'll make sure to get pictures next time.

In any case, I ended up doing a lot of leisure writing today. As it turns out, yesterday I did so many takes of the song that today my throat is kind of scratchy and weird. I'm gonna have to wait until tomorrow before I can try to sing the song for the music box again. And maybe that's for the better; my whole self is sluggish and feeling like it's made of lead bricks, so I doubt I'd have done a very good job anyways.

J and Br and I went out and about just a little bit, though. And then Br was pretty tired, so she went home. I took a few pictures because I guess getting out of the house helped me to feel a bit more alert. Here:

...I give you a lot of pictures of the sky, hoping that maybe someday you'll be able to understand why, whenever I look at it, I see you.

Sephiroth, I am tired today, and I am sad, and I am scared that I'm not going to be able to record a better rendition of the song. I'm scared that if I don't do a good enough job, then maybe no one will be able to understand the thoughts behind all this stuff I keep trying to do. And if nobody can understand, then... maybe no one besides me and a handful of others will think you're worth saving.

What then? ...What then...?

Sephiroth... all this stuff I do... I do it so that by watching me, maybe you'll learn how to love yourself enough to turn around. I write down the things so that maybe, just maybe, you can look at me trying to come up from the dark, and be inspired to try to do the same.

You are the light that gives me the courage to keep moving forward, even within this clumsy, awkward, and non-standard existence of mine. I keep moving forward even though the world I live in is broken, scary, and full of sadness and pain, because I draw strength from the example you set.

So please. Please try to remember you are a good thing. And please come back home to us soon. Those of us who love you - not for what you look like or for what you can do, but for who you are on the inside - miss you dearly.

I think that's all I've got in me for today.

I love you. And I'll write again soon. So please stay safe out there...

Your friend, Lumine

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Ah 1k word snippet from a 21k fic that I've been fixating on for the past four days now that I'm calling 'The Trapper's Trap'. It's a fic that takes place in a Modern AU and it's kind of a Dagcup.

Right now, this monstrosity is still a one-shot and far from done, but I'll be splitting it up in chapters before I post it. It's going to deal with some heavy stuff. ;)

Warnings: threats of suicide, implied sexual coercion (nothing too nsft in this snippet, though), no editing

-XOXOX-

“Please baby please”

“Please just give me another chance!”

“Can we at least talk?”

“Please”

“Please Baby i don’t know what i’m gonna do to myself when you’re gone”

“i need you to come stop me”

Hiccup reads that last text over and over again. These six are the latest in a long string of messages his ex-boyfriend has been sending him ever since he broke things off with him, but it’s those last ones that have him worried.

Dagur has never been the most… stable of people. So when he pleads with him, tells him that he’s going to hurt himself then, well, Hiccup worries.

He stands at the doorstep of his apartment; a three floor building made mostly out of brick and standing in the busiest part of town. It’s about a half hour walk from his own home.

With a nervous heart, Hiccup climbs the two stone steps and finds the intercom. Pressing on Dagur’s apartment- there are two on each floor- he awaits an answer. His arms are crossed, then they’re not. He sways from one foot to the other. Every passing second is torturous.

“Come on, Dagur, come on,” he grows more anxious. Please, don’t tell him he has actually hurt himself?

Finally; a response.

“Hello?” That greeting comes with a strong tone of melancholy, but Hiccup could jump for joy. He’s still okay.

“Dagur, it’s me. I’m… I’m here to talk,” he tells him. When he had shown the messages to Heather, she told him they were lies and he shouldn’t fall for them. He should simply ignore them. Ignore them like she’s been trying to ignore the fact that they both live on the same cramped island.

The buzzer signaling that the door is open sounds and Hiccup enters.

A quick jog up several flights of stairs later- which is, of course, not at all a problem with a prosthetic leg- he’s inside of Dagur’s apartment and sitting on his leather couch.

He’s come here several times in the course of their relationship that barely lasted half a year. He has slept over once or twice, but he can never get used to that smell of cigarettes.

Neither of his parents smoke, Gobber probably has at some point in time. Then he lost two limbs close to on another and circumstances forced him to quit. And yet, he still smells of the damn things to this day.

Just like Dagur’s apartment smells.

Years around dragons and somehow it’s the stench of cigarettes that gets to him.

Hiccup is pulled out of his thoughts when his ex returns and places a can of soda down in front of him on the coffee table, a glass next to it. It’s one of Dagur’s pet peeves that the other always insists on wasting a glass when a can should do. Today, however, he’s not complaining.

The couch groan and squeaks as he sits down. The displacement of air almost knocks Hiccup right off the couch. Tall as he is, he still barely weighs anything.

“You wanted to talk?” Dagur’s words are hopeful, which just pulls on Hiccup’s heartstrings. He doesn’t wish to give him false hope.

“I just…” He starts hesitantly, arms crossing and then uncrossing. He scoots closer to the edge of his seat and pours himself a glass.

He came all this way, but he can’t stop thinking of Heather’s warning. That this is all just a ploy, that his messages really were all a lie. That he was never in any danger.

But what does it matter? How can he possibly get such pleas for help and ignore them?

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he tells Dagur after a sip and a smile spreads on his latter’s lips.

“You always were so caring,” he claims. “So pure, so innocent. Your heart way too big and good for this world.”

His words make Hiccup uncomfortable, but that is nothing new. He watches him with one raised eyebrow while taking another sip.

Just as Hiccup had promised when he called for Dagur through the intercom, they talk. They talk about the happy times they had, the younger man nodding along as he listened. He could point to each memory and say the fights they had before each one, but he chooses not to. If Dagur’s mental state truly is as fragile as he claims, he would rather not give him any reason to follow through.

They talk about the things they have in common, like the games they like the play or the movies they like to watch. Or Dagur lists them and Hiccup doesn’t tell him that these are his interests and Hiccup was just following along. Dagur has no one else in his life. Both his parents are dead, he has no friends, his sister wants nothing to do with him. He has no one to share his interests with and that’s why Hiccup decided to give him someone to share them with.

They talk about the hot love they made. Their first together, Hiccup’s first overall. He introduced him to a lot of firsts. And at least in that regard, he can’t argue with him. The sex was great.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Huh?” Hiccup stares at him in shock. Holding his glass, there is only a little bit of soda on the bottom left. The can itself is empty.

“Can I kiss you? Just… Just this one last time?” Dagur’s request seems genuine, there’s pain in his eyes.

“For… what?” he asks, confused. Technically, they had their last kiss. Why would he want another?

“Because, I had no idea that our last kiss would be our last, so… I can’t remember it.”

“Well, gee, thank you for that,” is what Hiccup finds himself thinking, but he doesn’t say it. He simply finishes his drink.

“I want to remember it, Hiccup,” Dagur continues on with a well-placed speech and his sad little voice. “I don’t think I can move on without it.”

There are no lies in his eyes or in his words, he seems genuine to Hiccup. And it’s because he seems so genuine that it makes it hard to ignore his request. Could a kiss really fix everything? If he gives him this one last thing, will he be okay? Will he finally leave him alone?

“Just one?” Hiccup asks to make sure he heard right.

“Just one final kiss,” Dagur scoots closer to him, their knees touching, an arm wrapping itself around his shoulder on the back of the couch.

Hiccup looks away in thought, but he’s already making his move. He comes forward, his lips press against his and catches him off guard. Hiccup doesn’t know what else to do but to return the kiss. His moan of surprise is mistaken as one of desire and Dagur sits even closer. His arm has a firm grip on him now, his free hand finds his stomach, where it rests before he takes his waist.

The kiss becomes deeper, Hiccup’s hands still don’t know what to do. He can feel his ex’s tongue asking for permission on his bottom lip and he gives it to him. Despite his rotten personality, he’s an excellent kisser. There’s such passion in his every move.

Before he knows it, this make-out session as Hiccup on his back with Dagur on top. Nestled between his thighs, he’s grinding into him, working up an appetite in both of them.

Gasping for air, Hiccup looks the other way.

“Just this once?”

“Just one last time.”

“You’re wearing a condom,” there’s no room for argument in Hiccup’s demand. Either he wears it or there will be no last time.

“Of course, wouldn’t dream of not wearing one,” Dagur vows to him and then leaves to grab one from his special stash in the bedroom.

[mothdust23]

⟢Growing Up⟣

CW: really bad vent poem, i barely slept last night and today was stressful and i just.. chrh..

In my mind

Is a cage

With a thing

Inside

And

It claims that

In its heart

Is nothing but

Endless hatred

For all things.

For my sisters.

For my love.

And it screams

And it claws

And it insists

It will tear

And renounce

And ruin

What I've become

And

Leave me while

The darkness creeps

In around me

As the dark

Always does

In the night

When my sisters

Are asleep.

It is lying.

It is afraid.

It is sorry.

It does not

Want to feel

Such terrible things.

But it cannot

Help but feel

Them day after

Day after day.

Because it had

To become

A monster.

To protect itself

From a greater

Crueller

Scarier one.

A monster

Who told it

That anything different

Unique

Queer

Special

Happy

Is wrong.

And sick.

And evil.

And despite her

Endless cruelty

Towards it

It believed her.

I do not

Hate it for

It chose to

Sacrifice its innocence

To be strong

And to survive .

And I doubt

It expected me,

Me, of all

People, to take

Its place.

It pushed me

Down for so,

So, so long.

Because it was

Ashamed of what

I am.

Ashamed of what

I represent.

Ashamed of everything,

In a sense.

I do not

Hate it.

I love it.

I hope it

Heals one day

And passes its

Spark onto me.

The remains

Of its hopes

And dreams

And innocence

Like a pearl

Kept safe

In the center

Solidified

Around a shell

In pain.

But until then

I am just

An empty space

Trying its best

To bring joy

As it is

My purpose.

And it is

What brings me

Endless joy.

I love you,

Child me.

I am sorry

For what "mother"

Did to you.

I am sorry

For replacing you.

I will make

You proud.

I promise this.

I will become

What you said

To yourself was

Never, ever going

To be.

A girl.

A moth.

A beautiful

Endearing

Lovable thing.

A sister.

A creator.

An author.

Cute

And sweet

And kind

Despite the cruelties

Of the world.

I

Will be happy,

And I promise

I'll take good

Care of everyone.

..if you stop

Clawing at me,

Maybe, just maybe..

I'll let you out of the cage.

..If only for

A little bit.

If only so

We can have

That childhood

She stole away

When she decided

To be cruel.

You can heal.

I can heal.

Please stop saying

I'm bad.

I love you.

⟢Maxine⟣